Batman and Sons
by rachelswritingfortress
Summary: A kind of funny/dramatic Tv-style story of the batfamily. After Bruce returns from being "dead", he finds that a lot has changed in his absence. Can he and his family prevail through all of the changes, and keep up their double lives as vigilantes? Takes place after Batman RIP/Battle for the cowl when Bruce "dies" and contains a mix of multiple Batman universes.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello Everyone. So, this is a little (well, it might be kind of long) story that was invented/thrown around by me and my friends. We had the idea to come up with a TV show with heavy influence on the Batfamily. This is obviously not a TV show, and I know it probably won't be, but I thought it would be fun to post it. As it was originally a "show" it's kind of dialogue heavy, but a lot of fanfictions are. This will pull information/lore/ideas from all types of places: comics, movies, tv shows, etc. Basically, anything batman is fair game, even what is non-cannon. Also, it involved other DC characters who will make appearances from time to time. I also have a few OCs, or at least characters who I have changed beyond the point of recognition, but not any of the main ones. For example, in the comics for a short time, before Stephanie Brown, Tim was dating a girl named Ariana. I kinda like the idea of a batkid being close/dating someone not in the know, so I took her and made her into someone pretty different. Honestly though, besides the very basics she's a completely different person, she even comes in at a different time in the timeline (don't worry Stephanie fans!) If using OCs annoys you that's fine, just giving you the heads up.**

 **Anyway, rambling is done. I do not own Batman or its related characters, nor any other characters. They all belong to DC. Please rate and review!**

 _Dick Grayson's apartment. Early in the morning._

Dick Grayson groaned and turned over in his bed. He slammed a palm against the alarm clock on his bedside table. He wanted nothing more than to shut his eyes and spend all day in the comfort of his bed. He couldn't though; he had to go to work, and he'd have to face Bruce eventually, so he might as well make to the lunch-break meeting they decided on the night before.

Bruce was mad. Dick had known the man long enough to be able to he was angry. Bruce was his mentor, his partner, and - dare he say it - his father. Though, if yesterday was any indication, Dick wouldn't be suprised to find out Bruce no longer considered him family.

Bruce. It was all his fault. He had no right to be angry at Dick - what was he suppose to do?

Dick threw off his covers and jumped onto the floor. He was ready to tear off his pajamas, when he realized he wasn't in them. He still had on that black batsuit - not the real batsuit, of course. The one worn by who people referred to as "the New Batman." Dick was muscular enough, but he was much more slender than Bruce. He was shorter, too. It was obvious people would know he wasn't the same Batman. Most people were even able to guess that he was the first Robin and the only Nightwing, having taken on a new suit.

They had to have known something happened to Batman, and probably thought something had happened to Robin, too, since the new one was clearly younger than the previous. Dick didn't bother reading the newspapers for their theories. He had even banned Damian from them, once he realized he was trying to keep tabs on Tim. Dick would not allow that; Tim was the one who decided to run off, and he wasn't going to be giving Damian any ideas. That kid was messed up enough, the last thing Dick needed was _him_ running off and playing hero unsupervised too.

Dick shed off the Batman suit, which clung to him as if a second skin. He threw it into a pile at the corner of his room. He probably should find a better spot for it, but it didn't matter anymore. No one would see it there, and he wasn't Batman anymore.

He put on his police uniform as quickly as he could. He was already running late, having spent too much time brooding in bed. Brooding - that was Bruce's job. It was the batsuit that did that, apparently. He was becoming Bruce, even though he promised he wouldn't make the same mistakes he did. He had made one enough on his own.

Dick left his apartment and practically ran to the Bludhaven Police Department. It was the first time in a long time he was able to walk to work, and the first time he didn't have to drive all the way through Gotham _and_ Bludhaven.

He entered, and heard some of the other officers snickering. They all believed he was watching his younger brothers while Bruce way away on some foreign vacation and charity trip. Dick had made all the excuses: he was working on some important business. Bruce was building houses and feeding children. He would not be back for a long time and no, Dick wasn't completely certain when he'd return.

Since Dick had been staying in Gotham, he hadn't made it to work on time without running through the door, red faced and sweaty. All the other officers had decided that handling two younger boys was too much for him, and they practically drove him crazy everyday with the stress.

They had no idea.

"Had a hard time with your brothers this morning?" One of his co-workers laughed.

"No, Bruce came back last night."

"What?"

Dick smiled, for the first time in nearly twelve hours. "Don't worry, I'll be back to normal tomorrow."

His friend shrugged and turned back to his paperwork. Dick felt his phone vibrate, and he grabbed it.

It was from Wally, his best friend. It was a picture of the front page of today's _Daily Planet._ There was a picture on the front of Bruce, in his costume, standing on a rooftop in Gotham, with the batsignal clear in the background. An impressive shot, actually, and Dick wondered what lowlife paparazzi was scouring the criminal side of Gotham just for a picture he could sell. The heading read "Batman Returns?" Beneath the picture was Wally's own text, _has Clark gone crazy or...?_

Dick didn't answer him and practically threw his phone down on his desk. He wanted Bruce to be furthest thing from his mind.

...

 _Jason and Roy's apartment, around the same time._

Roy Harper sat back in his armchair, legs stretched out and feet resting on the coffee table. He had the newspaper that he bought with the only intention of annoying Jason. He had no other reason to buy _The Daily Planet,_ it certainly wasn't to support Superman. He crinkled it loudly and pretended to read.

"So," he said after a moment, "looks like big bad daddy Bats is back, huh? Good thing you didn't actually kill that little brat, huh? Bet he wouldn't be too happy about that. Don't be upset though, just because he's better than you and all. You're still _my_ favorite Robin."

There was no answer. Roy looked up from the paper. The living room was silent, but he knew Jason was here a minute ago. "Jay?" he called. He heard footsteps behind him, then the front door of their apartment open. Roy spun around in his chair. Jason was standing there, a sweatshirt hood pulled up over his head. "Jason?"

The door slammed shut, and Jason was gone.

...

 _Wayne Household, before school._

"More coffee, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, the half-full coffee put raised in the air. Bruce nodded his head, keeping his attention on the newspaper in front of him. He didn't read _The Daily Planet -_ Metropolis news did not concern him usually, but Clark had sent him a picture of the front-page story. He knew it was Clark's job to write about vigilantes, but how _stupid_ could that guy get? If he wanted to broadcast all the news he could about Superman, fine, but don't bring Batman into it. Bruce wondered who else had seen it - enemies? Friends?

In the end, it didn't matter who knew Batman had returned to Gotham - the _real_ Batman, not just Nightwing playing dress-up. All Bruce cared about was he was home, and it was good to be home.

"Father!" A voice called from upstairs. "Father! I demand you come up here this instance!"

Alfred didn't laugh, but Bruce caught the humor in his usual cheerful voice. "Master Bruce, aren't you glad you decided to return for the first day of this school year?"

Bruce put his paper down and rolled his eyes. Of course, there was always some trouble. Having a teenager and an almost-teenager in the house was enough to ensure that. He'd have to apologize to Dick about that - suddenly turning from brother to parent would be difficult for anyone, but with Tim and Damian, who acted like they were ready to kill each other most days, he was sure it was almost impossible. But Dick made it through it without killing himself or either of them, so he'd congratulate him for that, _after_ he yelled at Dick for everything he did wrong.

Damian came stomping down the stairs. He was dressed in his white button-up and dress pants, most of his school uniform. He held a long piece of cloth in his left fist. He held it as far away from his body as he could, as if worried it would burn him. "Father, what is this?'

"It's a tie, Damian," Bruce said, trying his best to keep his patience.

"And why did you put it on my bed this morning?"

"I put it there, Master Damian," Alfred cut in, as level-headed as ever. "It is a part of your school uniform."

Damian crossed his arms and put his bottom lip out, in an annoyed pout that Alfred and Bruce had long learned to ignore. "My old school didn't make me wear one of these. I don't like it."

"You'll get used to it, Young Master. Let me tie it for you,"

"No," Damian argued, even as he handed it to Alfred. Even for him, it was too early for a fight. "I could put it on myself, I just refuse to. I despise ties, they make people look like fools. Like Drake."

Bruce stood, bringing his coffee mug with him. "Where is Tim? He's usually down here by now."

"Probably ran off again," Damian snarled, "good riddance."

Alfred tugged tightly at Damian's tie, making him flinch. Bruce walked to the foot of the stairs and yelled up. "Timothy Drake, hurry up! You're going to be late for school!"

"All done, Master Damian, and may I say you don't look foolish at all. You look handsome, just as all your brothers in that uniform.'

"I have no brothers," Damian mumbled. Bruce turned around.

He wanted to say something, but decided it against it. Damian was difficult, he knew that. Bruce just got back though, and he wasn't ready to get angry with him, yet. "Tim!"

Tim hurried down the hall and the stairs. He was in his full uniform, and even despite the late summer heat he had a school sweater slung over his shoulder. "Sorry. That filthy mutt stole my socks and pants." Tim said, nodding toward Damian. "I couldn't find them right away."

Damian smirked, "Ace didn't steal anything from you, Drake," He tilted his chin up in a look of pride, "I did."

"Yeah, I know," Tim said.

"Alright, alright, enough of that. Get in the car, I'll take you guys to school," Bruce said.

Tim laughed. " _You're_ driving? Bruce, do you even know where the school is? Alfred always takes us."

"I know exactly where it is, and yes, I'll be taking you."

"I call the front seat!" Damian called, running toward the door.

Bruce followed after him. Tim lagged behind slightly, looking back up the stairs. Alfred noticed, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Master Timothy, is everything alright? Have you forgotten something?"

Tim shook his head, "No, I was just thinking about something."

Alfred nodded. "Well, hurry along then. You don't want to be late."

Tim nodded and headed for the door. Alfred smiled after him. Both of the kids would be better off now, since Bruce was back. He knew how hard his "death" was for the two of them. It was hard for him, too. Alfred knew Bruce had been alive and well, but wasn't allowed to say anything. Alfred frowned. It was probably just as hard for Dick as it was for him. Maybe worse. At least Alfred had been a bit of a parental figure when Bruce was around, and he had watched the kids alone and acted as a father in the past. But not Dick. Dick was always the older brother.

Alfred sat himself at the kitchen table. He wouldn't admit it, but he was relieved when Bruce said he'd bring the boys to school. With Bruce gone, and the kids home for the summer, his hands had been full. Even a short time alone was a relief for him. He poured some of the remaining coffee in his cup, adding just a splash of cream. He wasn't like Bruce, who felt the need to block out all the coffee bitterness with sugar, and prefered it without.

He was there for a few minutes when he heard someone else coming down the stairs. He didn't turn when the person stood behind him. He could tell from the footsteps and familiar sound of his breathing who it was. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to join me at the table, Master Jason?"

Jason sat down across from him. Alfred looked him over. He was dressed, which was surprising at this time in the morning. He wondered if he had slept at all, or spent all night wondering the streets of Gotham or passing around wherever he found himself. He certainly hadn't been in the manor.

"I didn't know you slept here, Master Jason," Alfred said in his even voice.

"You know I didn't," Jason mumbled. "I was trying to break in through the window. The big one, in Bruce's room. Thought I'd give him a heart attack. He wasn't there, though, and I didn't want to break through it. Tim let me in."

"Oh, was that you banging on the window? I thought a bird had flew into it."

Jason glared at Alfred. "Very funny, old man. What was Tim doing sleeping in Bruce's room anyway? Isn't he a little old to be crawling into bed with his daddy?"

Alfred set his mug down with a clatter. "Be kind to Master Timothy, he's been through a lot lately. Bruce's death hit him hard, and it didn't help it came so close to his girlfriend's death."

"Oh yeah, Conner Kent." Jason smirked and leaned back in his chair.

" _Stephanie Brown._ Superboy's death was hard on Master Timothy too, but he's back now, and it's helped a lot. And Master Richard making Master Damian Robin. You didn't make it easy on him either. Trying to kill him a while back-"

"I didn't try to kill him, Alfred." Jason defended, crossing his arms. "If I _tried_ he would have been dead."

"You should be more sympathetic, Master Jason. You know what happened with the Joker."

Jason slammed his palm down on the table. His eyes looked like they would burst out of his skull. He shut them. Alfred frowned. He knew it had been a low blow, but Jason needed to know how serious this was.

Jason stayed silent for a minute too long. Alfred opened his mouth to apology, but he spoke. "Why would I care about that? I don't. The Joker does terrible things to good people, Alfred. It happens. I don't care if little Timmy went crazy or got tortured or whatever. It's not like he died or anything." Jason looked away and sighed. He shook his head. "Besides, he got to shoot the Joker. You know what I would have given for that?" Jason looked away. "Stupid little bastard. I wanted to be the one to kill the Joker."

Alfred smiled and cupped his hand over Jason's. "I'm glad you're back, Master Jason."

"I'm glad to be back, Alfred." He looked down again and pulled his hand away. "I just wish Bruce felt the same way."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi everyone, thank you so much for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! I appreciate everything and hope you all enjoy the story. As I said before: I am warning you that there will be OCs, and its a mix of different sources of Batman, and things happen out of order, some things that happened didn't/didn't happen yet, and some things that didn't happen will. Anyway, I know that bothers some people, so sorry! But I hope you all enjoy. Reviews are appreciated. On wards!**

 **I still, sadly, do not own Batman or any other characters that belong to DC.**

 _Outside of Gotham Preparatory school._

Bruce pulled up to the front entrance of the school. He half expected Tim and Damian to jump right out, but neither of them did. Damian still seemed grumpy, as usual, even though he had gotten the front seat with no argument from Tim. He was sitting with his elbow next on the side of the window, and his chin resting on his fist, scowling at a group of people walking by. Tim was sitting quietly in the back, his head and eyes cast slightly downward.

Bruce frowned as he watched him in the rear-view mirror. Tim had barely left his side since Bruce returned last night. Bruce had expected him to be happy, and relieved - he expected all his sons to be, of course (except maybe Jason and, surprise, surprise, he had just run off when he saw Bruce). But Tim's reaction was practically unnatural. By the time Bruce saw Tim, he had already seen that Dick was Batman, which he expected, and that Damian had taken over Tim's mantle of Robin, which he hadn't expected. He wasn't sure what to think when he saw Tim a little while later at night, with that ridiculous cowl on his head. He wouldn't even have recognized him if Tim hadn't thrown it off of his head when he saw Bruce - right there, on a rooftop of Gotham where anyone watching would have seen his identity and ruined the entire operation of Batman - and threw his arms around him.

It wasn't until later that night, when they were all safe in the manor, that Bruce began to hear the details of everything. Jason had already ran off, and Bruce sent Tim and Damian up to bed. He sat up with Alfred and Dick to discuss everything that had happened. Dick had made Damian Robin instead of Tim, and if that didn't upset Tim enough, when he tried to tell them Bruce was still alive they all just thought he was crazy. It was enough for Bruce to excuse Tim taking off his mask outside of the Batcave, something that was strictly forbidden, but it still shocked him when he finally got into his bedroom that night, thinking his two youngest were in their own rooms, and to see Tim sitting up on his bed with his head rolled to the side, fast asleep.

There was definitely something wrong with him.

"You okay, Tim?"

"Yeah, I was just . . ." Tim was considering whether or not to tell Bruce he had let Jason into the manor. Bruce had the right to know, it was his house and all. But he was afraid Bruce might be mad at him, and instead shut his mouth and reached for the door. "I'm glad your back, Bruce." Bruce smiled and nodded. Tim opened his door and slid out, "I'll see you later." And he was gone.

Bruce turned to Damian, who made no attempt to move. Someone behind him beeped in annoyance. "Don't you think you should head out too, kiddo?"

"Don't call me that, Father," Damian said, looking at Bruce from the corner of his eyes.

Bruce shook his head, "alright, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just have nothing in common with the people who go here and have no desire to converse with them."

Bruce smiled and ruffled Damian's hair, only to have him flinch away. "I get it. Damian, it's okay that you're upset, I know you wanted to go to school with your friend Colin, but this school is much better, and the rest of the boys went here."

"I don't care that Colin doesn't go here," Damian snapped, "I am perfectly capable of making other friends, Father."

Bruce rolled his eyes. Nothing with Damian was easy. "I'm sure you are. But if you are worried about it at all, remember, Tim won't be too far if you need his help."

"Like I would seek out his help, of all people." Damian snorted. "I'm insulted you'd say that. Take me home, now,"

The car behind pulled around them, followed by a line of others. Bruce waved in apology. "Tell you what, if you get out now and act like a good boy, I'll take you for ice cream."

"Do you honestly think you can bribe me with treats?" Damian asked. Even so, he reached to release his seatbelt. "I'm going now, but because _I_ want to, not because _you_ told me too."

Bruce smiled as Damian climbed out. "Love you."

Damian's face flushed. "Father, please," he said, as he shut the door.

Bruce smiled as he watched Damian walk toward the school. Someone beeped again, this time a new line was behind him. He sighed and pulled away. He still had hours before he was going to meet Dick.

. . .

 _Inside of the school._

Tim leaned against the lockers, feeling slightly uncomfortable with all the people circled around him. These people weren't his friends. They could be, maybe, he thought he was a pretty likable person. But, Tim preferred to keep himself out of the limelight - of course, he attracted some attention, being a ward of the richest man in the city tended to do that. It was safer to be lost in the crowd. No one would expected that Tim Drake, nerdy, kind of quiet, nice enough kid, could be in any way related to Batman. Of course not, that would be ridiculous. Tim liked staying a bit quiet, anyway. He had friends at school that were like him; smart, nice, intellectuals. They weren't his best friends, he liked them well enough, but they weren't like the people he met from the Justice League and the Teen Titans. Those were the people he really liked.

But, he _really_ liked Arianna, too.

Maybe, Tim thought, it was just because she happened to come into his life at a time when everything else was going wrong. It was before Bruce and Conner came back. And Stephanie - well, Stephanie didn't come back like either of them.

It was right after Dick told Tim he couldn't be Robin anymore. Dick kept trying to say something after that, but Tim ignored him and ran out of the room - out of the manor, actually. He wandered around a bit, and ended up on the outskirts of the city. He went into a little dinner there, for no reason at all, just wanting to get as far away from his life as he could. It wasn't a scummy place, but it was nowhere near as nice as where they would usually go to eat. So he went in, if only for the distraction.

If he had known someone from his school worked there, he would never have walked in, but he was sitting down before he recognized Ari. He kept his head down on the menu, even though his stomach turned with his anger and how upset he was and gave him no desire to eat. But she recognized him. They weren't friends before that, but they had spoken a couple of times. She knew something was wrong, and she was the first person to actually listen to him - well, besides Alfred, but he was no help - since everything went downhill. He couldn't tell her everything, obviously, but it was nice. She listened and she seemed to like him. She liked _Tim,_ even without knowing he was Robin.

So he'd put up with her friends, as separated from them as he might feel. Tim wouldn't say they were cooler than him, but they were more outgoing. He liked to think Arianna was more like him; intelligent and reserved, but the more they all talked, he began to fear that she was more extroverted than he thought, and she'd get bored with him, as such people usually do. Exciting was Robin's thing, not Tim's.

"Drake!"

Tim stiffened up when he heard his name. He looked at the group of people around him, but no one even looked at him. A quick glance showed no one nearby either. He was about to shrug it off, it must have been to someone else, or he misheard. It wasn't like anyone would call him by his last name, anyway, except . . .

"Drake!"

This time it was unmistakable. It was his name, and he knew exactly who was calling it. He wanted to groan, or slip into the locker behind him. Someone lightly tapped on his shoulder.

"Hey, Tim," Ari said, pointing outside of the circle.

Tim sighed and walked over to Damian.

"Drake, I need your help," Damian said before Tim could speak. "Tell me how to get out of here."

"Out?"

Damian rolled his eyes. "Out of the school, Drake. I want to leave."

"You've been here for, what, three minutes? What do you mean you want to leave?"

"I don't have to answer to you, Drake." Damian crossed his eyes and turned dramatically away.

Tim smirked. As difficult as Damian was, he was still a kid. And as much as Tim hated to admit it, he knew Damian pretty well. Well enough to tell what was wrong. "Damian, are you scared?"

Damian turned back to Tim, his eyes blazing. "Of course I'm not afraid! I am the son of Talia al Ghul and the Batman! I have fought villains and criminals. I am not afraid of anything!"

"Alright, alright, keep your voice down. Do you want the entire school to think you're crazy? Or worse?"

"I am not crazy," Damian said, though his voice had dropped.

"I know you're not. Damian, what's bothering you?" Damian said nothing, but he scuffed his shoe against the floor. His new dress shoes that Dick had bought him before Bruce came back. Tim sighed. "Look, I know we're not really each other's favorite person, but you can tell me anything. You know, I actually changed schools a lot. I went here at the beginning with Bruce, but when my dad came back I switched into a couple others, then came back here. I was nervous too, every time."

"Of course you were," Damian said sourly, "You had no friends and no one liked you. Not that anything has changed."

Tim nodded his head. Another trick of Damian's he had become familiar with. Trying to reflect his feelings onto someone else. "Damian, I know you don't have any friends here, and that you haven't really made any friends at all, but don't be worried. You'll meet people you like. You just got to-"

"Are going to tell me, 'just be yourself' or something? I got that talk from Pennyworth and Father already."

Tim laughed, "I would never give you that advice."

"What are you saying? Am I not a likable person, Drake?"

"Damian, you hid my pants under the bathroom sink this morning. You're not exactly easy to get alone with." Tim looked back and saw Arianna and her friend walking towards them. "Look, Damian, you'll make friends. Just be nice to people, if you can, and talk to them, okay?"

"Tim, settle something for us, will you?" Arianna asked once she was next to him. "Kate's trying to tell us that Batman isn't real."

"He's just made up by the police to scare people," Kate said, "that's what my dad said. Come on, you're smart, tell Ari how dumb the whole thing is."

"I know Batman," Damian quickly blurted out.

Tim glared at him, then turned back to the girls. "Ignore him, he just thinks he's funny." The girls laughed at that, and Tim could see Damian's face flash from confusion to anger. "Uh, this is Damian. He's my - he's Bruce's son."

Damian through his head back in pride at that one. Tim almost sighed in relief, crisis averted.

"Aw, Tim, I didn't know you had such a cute little brother." Kate used that little high-pitched baby voice that Damian detested. Crisis again.

"Drake is not my brother. As he correctly said himself, I am the son of Bruce Wayne. He is not." Damian gritted his teeth, and Tim wouldn't have been surprised if he lunged forward and attacked her. He didn't though, Tim had to remember that the kid wasn't _completely_ insane.

The girls looked at each other, then to Tim. He shook his head and shot them a look that showed he went through this all the time. Ari was the one who braved speaking it up. "Okay then. Nice to meet you, I'm Arianna." She held out her hand, but Damian only looked at it.

"Oh, so this is the girl you're always talking about, Drake," Damian said. Tim was ready to scream at him, but Ari giggled that that, and he calmed down. Damian looked her up and down, then turned to Tim. "I prefer the blonde one."

Arianna frowned, and Tim's fists shook. "Damian," he growled.

Damian shrugged. "Oh, did I say something wrong? Don't be insulted. If it makes you feel better, You should not be embarrassed in front of Drake, he slept in my father's room last night."

"Okay Damian that's enough." Tim spun him around and tried to nudged him away.

Damian glared back at him. "Unhand me Drake. I was simply talking to people, like you said. Not my fault if you don't find my conversation worthwhile."

Arianna grabbed Tim's shoulder. "Tim, it's alright. You don't have to get so mad. We should probably be going though, before we're late."

Tim nodded, and pushed Damian away. "Alright then, off you go."

"Wait, Drake!" Damian called as Tim started to walk away. "I-I don't know where to go."

"The younger grades are on the other side of the school," Arianna said, when she noticed Tim had no intention of answering him. "It's kinda far, but I'm sure you're teacher will understand if you're late."

"I don't know how to get there. Drake, take me there."

Tim groaned, but he stopped and turned. He knew there was no way he'd make it back in time for his class, but he'd rather deal with an annoyed teacher than an angry Damian. He rushed over and took Damian's arm and pulled him in the other direction. "You're impossible," he mumbled under his breath. "Let me see your scheduled." Tim ripped the paper Damian was clutching out of his hand and read through it quickly. "Mrs. Miller? You better be nice to her. She's a great teacher."

"I am always nice, Drake. To the people who deserve it."

Tim ignored him, and hurried down the hallway towards the other end of the school. There was no way Damian missed the large signs in the front hall, pointing the lower grades in one direction and the upper in the other. He had to have intentionally ignored them, and went looking for Tim.

That thought almost made Tim smile. Damian, who always tried to act as independent as possible for a twelve-year-old, had entered the school just as scared as the other first-years. He saw where he was suppose to go, and instead went looking for his older sort-of brother. Deep down inside, if even he tried to push very deep down, Damian knew Tim was, for all purposes, his brother, and like a brother, Tim would help him.

The younger kid's hallway was decorated with colorful motivational posters and artwork from the year before. At first Damian looked at it with wonder, then disgust. It wasn't like him to be hypnotized and impressed with pretty colors or creative things. That wasn't his fault, it was just what he had been taught from a young age. It was sad, he'd never experience being a real kid. Tim didn't think it gave him any excuses when it came to his behavior, though, despite Alfred insisting that Damian deserves some slack.

They reached the classroom. It was already full with the other students sitting patiently at their desks. Class hadn't technically started yet, but it was getting close. Mrs. Miller was standing by the door; she was in her early forties, but still had a look of youth in her eye. Her smile was kind and welcoming, and it grew even more when she saw Tim and Damian entering the class.

"Well, I thought we were missing someone. You must be Damian Wayne?"

"Obviously," Damian muttered. He wondered what would have given it away, that Drake had walked him in, or that he was the only one whose seat was empty? "You can go now, Drake. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself from here."

"Sure you are. Be careful, Mrs. Miller, he's a tough one."

She laughed. "Oh, I'm sure we'll handle it just fine, Tim."

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Tim said as he walked out of the door.

Mrs. Miller turned to Damian, "Don't worry, Damian. I'm sure we'll get along just fine. I had your brother a few years back, and he was very smart."

Damian crossed his arms. "If you are referring to Drak, he is not my brother, but I can assure you I am also far more intelligent than he is."

"Okay then, dear. Why don't you go take your seat. It's the one in the corner, next to Maddie," Mrs. Miller said, pointing to a chubby girl with a curly blonde ponytail.

Damian grimaced but sat down in his seat. He'd rather have sat on the other side of the room, where there were two empty desks, so he could be alone. The teacher began to talk, and Damian was half-ready to fall asleep on his desk, when he noticed the girl next to him staring.

"What?" he hissed in a low voice.

The girl shrugged. "Nothing . . ." she said, letting the word drag.

"Well then stop looking at me."

The girl looked down. Damian rested his chin in his hand. He was tired, he had been up late the night before, first as Robin, then as Damian, sneaking out of bed and into the kitchen so he could listen to his father and Grayson talk. Actually, it was his Father scolding Grayson, really. Father didn't yell. Despite what people might think, Batman was very level-headed with his sidekicks, and Bruce Wayne was no different with his kids. Bruce was, if anything, less serious than Batman. Maybe it was because there was more at stake, but Damian knew from stories that Batman was easily angered when Robin or Nightwing or whoever messed up, but Bruce was patient with his sons. If you managed to make Bruce angry, though, God save you.

Nothing was worse than facing an angry Bruce. His voice would drop down to that low growl that could strike fear in even the most evil of Gotham's villains. Worse was when he was looking down at you, even without the cowl that angry look in his eye was enough to send shivers down your spine. And Grayson had made him _really_ angry. Damian hadn't seen it, but his father sounded almost as angry as he was that one time, when Damian had punched Drake so hard he fell off of that dinosaur in the Batcave.

Damian was ready to fall asleep, slightly humored and slightly frightened by the thought of what Father might do to Grayson, when something poked at his arm. His eyes snapped open and he turned to Maddie next to him, who had her pencil raised and ready to poke him again.

"What?" Damian snapped.

"Some of the guys who went to your old school were talking about you. They said you were weird." Maddie said.

Damian raised an eyebrow. "I am not weird."

"You talk funny,"

"I do not."

"They said no one wanted to be friends with you, even though your dad is the richest guy in Gotham."

Damian slammed a fist down on his desk, making the girl, and the rest of the class, jump in surprise. Everyone turned to look at him, and Mrs. Miller put her hands on her hips. "Damian Wayne, is there a problem?"

Damian slumped back in his seat and turned away. "No," he said.

There was silence for a moment, then she went back to talking.

. . .

Tim had ran from Damian's classroom to his own, but he was late even so. He had expected that the second Damian told him he wanted Tim to walk him to class. The door was closed, and Tim could see the teacher talking beyond it. He had never had her before, and was hesitant to even take the class. Last year the school had created some new electives to broaden student's interests. He wasn't interested in the criminal justice class - after all, he did live it - but Bruce had talked him into it, saying it would be good to get some experience, and actually learn and understand the laws. Not that it really mattered, everything they did was technically illegal; there were plenty of laws forbidding vigilantes, but of course, _that_ was okay in Bruce's book. It might be helpful, though, since from what Tim had heard, the class focused mostly on the criminal issues in Gotham. He took in a deep breath and opened the door, hoping the teacher would be the understanding type.

"You're late," she said as soon as Tim had the door open.

Tim gulped. "Sorry, I had to show my brother to his class, and-"

"Well, you should have thought of that before and planned your time accordingly, shouldn't you have?" Tim didn't answer. "Sit down. I won't have you interrupting any longer."

Tim ducked into the first available seat he could find. It was next to a boy he had never seen before, he hadn't had time to search for anyone he knew.

"As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted," the teacher said, glaring right at Tim. "I am Miss Woods, and this is criminal justice. Any of you who joined this class thinking it would be an easy and fun elective, you were sadly mistaken. If you signed up thinking we would be talking about idiots running around in spandex and capes, you are going to be severely disappointed."

Tim ducked his head. He had the sinking feeling that she was still directing this at him. Which was ridiculous, as a teacher she should have had access to his grades, and would know that he was a good and respectable student. She couldn't know anything else, that he was one of those "idiots" she mentioned. He shook the worry from his mind. She was probably just still peeved that he had come in late.

"Now, based on the articles that I had you read over the summer, what is the biggest threat to Gotham's peace? How about you, Timothy Drake."

Tim's heart sunk. He didn't know the answer. He didn't know anything. He hadn't done any of his schoolwork over the summer, which he knew was probably going to come back to haunt him at some point, but he didn't expect it to be so soon. He had been too busy looking for Bruce to care about school.

He racked his brain, he should know this. What was the biggest threat to Gotham? "Um, the criminally insane?" It was a good guess, and his teacher would have to at least respect it. He did give her something.

"I suppose you could call them that. But can you tell me what specifically? if you read the articles, you should know."

Specific, right. Well, at least he was somewhere. He could do this. There were little things in Gotham: gangs, organized crime, muggers, car jackers, teenagers vandalizing. The biggest group, the biggest threat, well, they were hard to pin down. They were all very different from each other. The only thing that they had in common? "The, um, the ones from Arkham?"

Miss Woods shook her head, slowly, as if loving every minute she was bringing him down. "No, Mr. Drake. I suppose I can't blame you for not knowing. If we all spent our summers travelling on our billionaire guardian's wallet, I'm sure we'd all forget about our homework too, isn't that right?"

Tim stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded. How would she know what he did that summer? Then he remembered, Dick. Dick had told him when he returned that if anyone asked, he had been on a trip to Paris. Which, he supposed, wasn't technically a lie. It wasn't like he could say he was looking for clues about Bruce's disappearance, or that he ran away and hid at Titan headquarters for a while. Dick must have told anyonewho questioned Tim's whereabouts the same thing, and somehow Miss Woods had heard it.

"Well, can anyone who might actually have to work for their future answer my question?"

The boy next to Tim raised his hand, and Miss Woods nodded to him. "I believe the articles claimed that Gotham's criminal activity is due to the large number of vigilantes in the city. The criminals, who are insane, like was said, see their existence as a threat to their dominance, as a challenge, and increase their crimes as a result."

"Very good, Michael Devons, was it? Well, at least someone read the articles. Mr. Drake, is something funny?"

Tim realized he had a smile on his face, despite trying to hold in his laugh. Usually, he would have just shaken his head and apologized, but the whole class was looking at him. He needed to prove himself, show that he wasn't just some spoiled rich kid. He was smart, and he could think. "That's ridiculous. If anything, vigilantes have lessened the crime spree. I mean, they're afraid. It's not like the criminals had any threat before Batman showed up. What was there, the Gotham police force? Half those fools are just as corrupted as the criminals they were suppose to catch. Hell, if you read those reports by Commissioner Gordon, when he first got here there was hardly an honest man on the force. If it wasn't for the vigilantes, this city would be overrun by now. If it wasn't for Batman, the Joker would have blown this place up years ago!"

She was not pleased. "Perhaps if you managed to read the articles, you could, at the very least, look at this in a critical light. You can have whatever opinion you want, as long as you are well informed. I will not accept a rant from someone who hasn't read the other side as a respectable argument." By now, Miss Woods was in front of his desk, looking down at him. Tim straightened up, trying to decrease the height difference that seemed to have popped up from nowhere. "I expect you to read the articles, all five of them, with detailed notes by tomorrow's class."

She turned from his desk and walked back to the front of the room. Tim sunk back down and covered his face with his hands, still trying - and failing - to convince himself that this was Damian's fault, not his. This was going to be a long year, and he hadn't even gotten one class over with yet.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Hey guys, hope you enjoy the next installment of this wonderful series, haha. Please feel free to rate and review! Love ya'll!_**

 ** _I still do not own Batman or any related DC characters_**

 _Inside of Sam's Diner, outside of Gotham._

Dick looked at his watch again. It wasn't like Bruce to be late. That was kind of his gig, keeping Bruce waiting. Now was not the time for some petty revenge, and Dick was getting irritated. He had to get back to Bludhaven before his lunch hour was up. It wasn't like Bruce had any real work to do; he was the boss of Wayne Enterprise, and he could come and go as he pleased. He barely ever even went to the office, only claiming so when he wanted to leave and didn't want the boys to follow him. If Dick kept him waiting, Bruce was in no real trouble. If Bruce kept Dick waiting, Dick could expect an angry boss and possibly even a pink slip.

The door to the diner opened, and Dick perked up. It wasn't Bruce, it was some woman. He sighed. Maybe Bruce had gotten lost; this wasn't the first place Bruce would have wanted to meet, and it wasn't the type of establishment anyone would expect a Wayne to eat in. But Dick liked it. He had grown attached to it as a place for a coffee or a quick bite when he was commuting from Gotham to Bludhaven. He didn't have to go through the long Gotham traffic, and it was good enough. He had also promised the owner he'd bring Bruce in sometime, good publicity or something. Now was a good time, all the young waitresses were in school and wouldn't be gushing over a millionair. Bruce wanted to meet in private, but Dick made the excuse he would only be able to meet for lunch, and couldn't make it all the way to the manor. At least in public Bruce couldn't be too mad.

It was weird, Dick just went in there on a whim and suddenly found it a daily stop. He frowned, it was obvious why he was sucked into it. Tim had come here after he first ran away, that's what that waitress had said, anyway. " _Hey, aren't you one of the Waynes? Tim was in here not too long ago."_ It was there, too (from the same waitress, maybe, Dick couldn't really remember.), that Dick later learned that no one in Gotham had seen Tim in weeks, he even skipped all of his finales in school. Everyone had assumed he was travelling with Bruce. Even then, Dick kept going in there, on the slight chance that maybe Tim would be back and come in, and on the slight chance it would be the same time Dick was going into work.

"Excuse me." The woman who had walked in was at the counter and had called over the owner. "Is Arianna here?"

"Nope, sorry. She just started school. She's working later though."

"Oh, poo. I was hoping she was here. Can you give her this note for me, please. I think I gave her my old phone number before, and I have no way to contact her. I just got a new phone and, oh, I think I got the numbers mixed up."

"No problem sugar, I'll make sure she gets it for ya."

The woman laughed, it was high pitched and shrill. Dick flinched at the sound of it. "Oh, thank you. I'm so glad there's always such nice people here to help me."

She turned around quickly, not noticing that Sam behind the counter was leaning in closer and closer. She was wearing a lab coat and had her blonde hair tied back neatly in a bun. She smiled at Dick and winked behind her glasses. Then, before he could do or say anything, she was walking out. She looked familiar, but Dick couldn't place her. She must have recognized him too, though.

"You still waiting, sweetie?" Sue, a rather loud but kind waitress asked. She had the coffee pot in her hand. Dick nudged his mug toward her and nodded. "Well Officer Grayson, I can't imagine any girl in the world who would stand you up."

Dick smiled, "It's not a girl, it's worse. It's my dad."

"Well, I'm sure big important Bruce Wayne is keeping you waiting for something important," Sue said as she topped off his cup.

"Doubt it. Say, Sue, you know that woman who just walked in here?"

Sue narrowed her eyes. "Oh, do I ever. Doctor, what was it? Nap-ee-er? Something fancy like that. I guess she's famous, I don't know. Something about her seems off, she's way too ditzy. She made that Arianna girl who works here her intern, and I swear she's all that girl talks about half the time, when she ain't talking about Tim Drake that is."

Dick almost choked on his coffee. "What?"

"Oh, you didn't know? Well, I guess there together, or something. He comes in here all the time and flirts with her, and she always smiles and laughs. I'm suprised he didn't tell you."

Dick shrugged. "I'm not really Tim's favorite person right now."

The door opened again, and this time Bruce walked in, dressed in a button up shirt and sportcoat. Far too overdressed for a place like this. A couple of heads turned, there was some whispering by some of the waitresses. Sue mumbled something about a menu and walked off.

Bruce slipped into the booth and sat across from Dick. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, then Bruce spoke. "Been awhile since I saw you in your uniform."

"Been awhile since I saw you alive," Dick retorted. He dropped his voice. "Look, let's cut to the chase, Bruce. You did some messed up shit, and so did I. I'm not you, and made some mistakes. Okay?"

"No, Dick, it's not okay. Dick, I know I asked a lot, leaving you with everything, and trusting you to look after your brothers and the city. I know it's hard, but, come on. You making Damian, well, you know. Dick, we talked about this before, Damian isn't ready for it. And what about Tim, you just let him leave? Did you even look for him?"

"Of course I did," Dick said, more loudly than he expected. He was sure a couple of people were turning heads. "I looked all over the place. Tim's my brother, Bruce, I didn't mean to make him run off. And Damian-" Dick looked around, "We shouldn't have met here."

"I think so too. We can go in the car."

Dick nodded. "Sue, this should be enough," he said, dropping a twenty on the table, more than enough for the one-and-a-half cups of coffee.

Bruce got up first, and Dick followed, feeling suddenly like the little boy following Bruce mindlessly around. He wasn't Nightwing right now, or even Officer Richard Grayson, he felt like little Dick Grayson, who followed his new father around with his head down and eyes tearful.

Bruce's slick, black car was parked out front. Dick was relieved to see the drive seat empty; Bruce had come alone, without Alfred. Bruce took the driver's side, and Dick the passengers.

They were both quiet for a minute, Dick squirming uncomfortably, as if he sat on something. Bruce spoke up. "Dick, we really need to-"

"You were gone, Bruce," Dick said solemnly, "we buried you. We were just beginning to heal. Tim came back, and Damian was actually admitting that he missed you. Even _Jason_ was getting better. We were sad, but we were a family. You can't just come back and act like nothing happened. You know the first thing you said to me last night? 'Is that Damian in a Robin suit?' Nothing like 'oh hey, I'm not dead. Good to see you guys again.' You didn't even explain yourself. Do you know how hard it was for us?"

"I know," Bruce said. "Dick, I didn't want to leave you boys, it wasn't my choice."

Dick nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He looked up, and noticed Bruce had tears in his eyes too. "You know I never meant to go against you. I didn't want Tim to leave, and I think you missed a lot of Damian growing up. He could be Robin, I thought so anyway. Though I suppose Tim deserved it too. Damn, did I tell you, even Barabara couldn't track him down at first. She tried everything, all the connection she had, all the information from our street cameras. Nothing. It was like he evaporated or something. You would have been proud." Dick shook his head. "I swear, you left me with a couple of the most messed up kids ever. Do you pride yourself on that, raising complete trainwrecks?"

Bruce laughed. "It could be worse."

"Yeah. I can imagine." Dick paused for a moment. Might as well mention it, they were both thinking it. "You could have told me about Jason."

Bruce drummed his fingers against the wheel. "It was a difficult situation. He went after Tim once, in Titan Tower. Tim never said he knew, but I'm sure he figured out who Jason was. I don't know if he got the connection between Jason and Red Hood, though. That's kind of why I kept Tim away from all of that. Jason disappeared after a while. I honestly thought he might have given up."

"When has Jason ever given up that easily? Well, he's back now. I guess everything's fine. He tried to kill almost all of us, but I guess we're at an understanding now." Dick shrugged. "Look at us now We got a Red Hood, a Robin, and a Red Robin. They couldn't have made it easy for us, could they? And Tim's got that stupid mask now." Bruce didn't say anything. "Bruce, what are you going to do about that? Tim and Damian, not Jason, no one knows what to do about him. Obviously Robin meant a lot to Tim, but it does to Damian, too, even though he might not show it. I mean, you can't yell at me for taking it from Tim, then do the same to Damian."

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Dick. Maybe you're right. Maybe Damian is ready. I'm just worried he's not mentally going to be able to take it, like . . ."

"Like Jason," Dick finished for him. "Damian isn't Jason, Bruce. Just like Tim isn't Jason, and Stephanie wasn't Jason - hell, maybe Jason isn't even Jason, the way you make it sound sometimes. I think you forgot something. You did raise him yourself. And have some trust in Damian, he is your son."

"You're all my sons." Bruce said.

Dick smiled, "I'm glad your back, Bruce. I was a shitty Batman."

"We still need to talk some things through, I mean-" Bruce dug into his pocket and pulled out his vibrating cell phone. "It's the school. Hello?"

Bruce's first thought was Tim. Tim was acting strange, he wasn't being himself. Could he have had a mental breakdown? Could he have gotten hurt? The fact Damian went to that school had left his mind until the headmaster on the other end said his name.

"Okay . . . yeah, I'll be there. Sorry." Bruce hung the phone up and sighed. "I have to go get Damian."

"Is everything okay?" Dick asked.

Bruce started the car up. "Is anything ever okay?"

. . .

 _High School Gym, last period of the day._

"I swear, the woman is completely mental," Tim whined. He knew he must have sounded pathetic, but he needed to get it out. He was sure Ari didn't mind, though - it wasn't the first time he had vented to her.

"Shh, you're complaining is messing up my zen.' Arianna was doing some yoga pose - she was standing on one foot, the other leg outstretched in one direction, one arm in the other. Her other arm was holding the ankle of her outstretched leg. She was pretty flexible, and stable, Tim was suprised to see.

"You know, I don't think yoga _really_ counts as exercise," Tim teased. He really had nothing against yoga; he knew Bruce did it sometimes, to clear his mind and work on flexibility. Sure, Tim knew the importance of relaxation and meditation, but he really wasn't into it like Bruce was.

Ari moved back into a standing position, then dropped down to the ground and reached out to touch her toes. "Of course it's exercise. Complaining isn't, though."

Tim's eyes wandered over to the gym teacher. He was making rounds across the gym, but hadn't gotten to them yet. He had pretty much told them to go off and do whatever they wanted, as long as it was exercise. Most of the kids were playing basketball or badminton. Some were like them, hiding away in the corner stretched out on the blue foam mats. A group of girls were practicing their gymnastics; flips and cartwheels - they weren't anything compared to what Dick could do, or even Tim for that matter. A couple of boys near them were trying to show off, doing as many pushups or situps as fast as they could. They were sloppy, and unimpressive. Tim could easily show them up too. But he didn't, instead he sat on the ground, ready to pretend to be working out if the teacher walked over to them.

Ari sighed as her back cracked. "Ah. Look, I'm sorry that your teacher's picking on you, but I think you need to chill. Just chill, and relax. If you can."

Tim chose to ignore her last comment. "Stupid Damian. He's the one who made me late."

"See, know you're just ignoring me." Ari shifted her position, so now she was sitting with her legs crossed. "It's hardly Damian's fault. Cut him some slack, he is your brother."

"Not my real brother, as he'll tell you a hundred times a day. Seriously, it's like every other thing out of his mouth. 'My father this, my father that. Shut up Drake, I'm his blood son.' Really, it gets old. Do you know he calls everyone by their last names? Even the butler! It's ridiculous."

"Not the butler!" Ari teased. "You should try to see things from his point of view. It can't be easy for him either. Why do you think he's constantly reminding you that Bruce is his father?"

"Cause he's a little bastard," Tim mumbled.

" _No._ Tim, think about it. Bruce didn't even know Damian existed for most of his life. How do you think it feels, the poor kid meets his father for the first time, only to realize his father had other kids he's known for longer? He's trying to find his place in your family."

"Wow, you know a lot about this." Arianna shrugged. A smile spread on Tim's face, and he almost couldn't help from laughing. "Oh, I get it. You read it all in that tabloid magazine. What's it called, _The Gotham Gossiper_?"

Ari's face went red. "What? No, of course not."

Tim had to stifle a laugh. "Sure you did. They had a field day with Damian. It was on the covers and plastered all over the newsstands. I remember, Dick bought one and framed it for Damian. I think he threw it in the trash, though. But you actually read it? Never thought you were the type."

"Oh shut up. Not my fault you're messed up family is entertaining." Ari turned to look at the teacher, who had taken to sitting on the bleachers. "You know, we can just leave and no one would even notice."

"Better not, I don't want another teacher hating me. Anyway, you were telling me something at lunch earlier. About a doctor or something?"

"Oh, yeah! So this lady came into my work, right? Looking all official and nice with a little lab coat on. She came up to me and said 'I'm looking for the smartest kid in Gotham' and-"

"And you gave her my number," Tim interrupted.

Ari rolled her eyes. "No, me. She was looking for me. Knew my name and everything. She's suppose to be one of the best doctors ever. Graduated top of her class. She even worked in Arkham for awhile. Can you believe it? Well, she came right up and asked if I wanted to help her out a bit and now, I'm her intern."

"I didn't even know you wanted to be a doctor," Tim said.

"I don't, not really. I mean, I considered it, but I'm more into engineering. But, there's always medical engineering, and this type of thing will look great on college and job applications."

"Guess so. What's her name? Maybe I heard of her." Tim knew a few of the Arkham doctors. None very well, and it was rare that he and Batman would concern themselves with what happened in the asylum. It was getting people in there that they usually dealt with. He thought he might be able to recognize a name though. If not, Bruce might know it.

"Doctor Napier. She's really smart you'd love her Tim. Tim? What's wrong?"

Tim knew he had gone pale white, but he didn't care. He could feel the blood rushing from his face, and it ran cold throughout the rest of his body. He knew the name, hell did he know the name, and it didn't belong to a Arkham doctor, that was for sure. He remembered standing in the Batcave, with Bruce going through a long list of criminals names. Some were obvious: alias Poison Ivy, real name Pamela Isley; alias Hush, real name Thomas Elliot. Some were a little more unusual, like how Bane probably didn't even have a first name, and it didn't even matter. But one stuck out to Tim. It had just aliases in it, no real name, not even any guesses. Bruce made a show of pointing it out. He thrusted his gloved finger toward it; at this point he was dressed as Batman, but Tim had yet to even hold a Robin costume.

"Read these names and memorize them. If you ever hear of anyone with these names, you are to stay away from them, understand? If you even think of going around him I will personally make sure you are the sorriest boy in Gotham, got it?"

Tim had nodded. He recognized some of the names. _Joker,_ of course. _Red Hood,_ not as well known, but Tim had been following Batman closely enough to recognize it. Then there were some other, normal human names that he had gone by at some points. _Joe Kerr,_ easy enough. _Oberon Sexton,_ a bit weirder, but he could remember it. Then, the most normal and inconspicuous one: _Jack Napier._

But it couldn't be related - could it? Certainly the Joker wasn't the only one to use that name. He wouldn't pick it if he was, right? And hadn't Tim seen the Joker died? Wasn't Tim the one who held that gun, the first shot pointing at Batman, with the little flag that said "Bang" on it popping out. The next shot, the killing shot . . . the Joker was dead. He killed him. The one thing forbidden by Batman, but that Batman never really mentioned.

Everyone else disappeared after that; all his lackeys, even Harley. _Harley. Dr._ Harleen Quinzel _._

"Harley," Tim mumbled, quiet enough that it was beyond recognition.

"What?" Arianna asked, thinking he had said _Ari._

Tim stood, shaking a little. He walked away from her, toward the gymnasium doors. She called after him, but he didn't hear. He left, stumbling down the hallway.

"Tim!" Ari practically yelled, following him. He was near the front office now, and any second a secretary might peer over and see him, clearly skipping gym class like plenty of more disobedient students did. Ari took his arm and pulled him away. "Tim, what's wrong with you?"

"Air," he said, "I need air."

"Maybe I should take you to the nurse," Ari suggest.

"No!" Tim said. He was beginning to get his senses back. He took Ari's hand his his. "I just, I want to stay with you, okay?"

Ari nodded, slowly, unsure.

. . .

 _Gotham Preparatory School, front hallway._

Bruce shook his head, staring down at Damian. "I can't believe you tried to hit your teacher."

"I did not _try,_ Father. I believe I succeeded."

Bruce groaned and covered his face with his hands. He needed to relax. He couldn't lose his cool, not here. Tim would probably die of embarassment if that happened, and he'd never hear the end of it if Dick somehow caught wind of it.

"Damian, you know better than that. I taught you better than that."

Damian laughed. "Really? I don't think you're in any position not to tell people to fight."

Bruce huffed. He really couldn't argue at that, but Damian was getting on the last of his nerves. He checked his watch quickly. "Well, it's one-thirty, school's almost over. Guess I might as well have them dismiss Tim too, save Alfred a trip. I wonder what class he's in?"

"What's that class Todd was telling me about the other day? He said it was his favorite. I think it was sexual education?"

"Okay, we need to have a talk about you listening to Jason too," Bruce said, sounding rather defeated. "Wait, why do you say Tim's in there?" _Is that even it's own class?_ Bruce wondered, but he doubted if Damian even knew what 'sexual education' meant.

"Well, from what Todd described, that's certainly what it looks like." Motioning down the hallway.

"Okay, you just can't talk to Jason anymore." Bruce muttered. He stared down the hallway. It opened up to the front entryway, and standing at the wall parallel from them was a boy and a girl, both in their gym uniforms. He had his hands wrapped around hers. Bruce leaned over to get a clearer look of his face. Oh yeah, that was definitely Tim.

The girl looked a little familiar, maybe he had seen her at some school event or passing by in the neighborhood, as most of the kids here lived in the richer parts of town. She looked uncomfortable, almost frightened. Her eyes were wide, her mouth slightly ajar. She was hugging the wall tightly, and looked ready to bolt the minute he let go. Was Tim _harassing_ her? Would Tim ever harass anyone?

Bruce held a hand out to Damian, "wait here," he ordered, though doubted it would do much good.

Bruce walked toward them, using his almost silent Batman steps. He had seen scared girls before when a guy wouldn't leave them alone, and knew that one or both of them would run if they knew someone was coming. Of course, when Bruce usually intervened like this, it was in the dark alleyways of the city, not in the brightly lit hallways of Gotham's finest private school. And he was usually Batman apprehending some scumbag, not Bruce going after his own son.

She saw him before Tim did, and just stared. She knew who Bruce was, no doubt about that. But she didn't really seem as scared as she had from down the hallway. She seemed more worried. if anything. Bruce reached out and put a firm, but gentle, hand on Tim's shoulder. He expected Tim to turn, maybe be suprised, or embarrassed to see Bruce interrupting his conversation with a girl.

Instead, Tim jumped and spun around quickly. He might have swung at Bruce if he hadn't grabbed Tim's arm. Bruce made a mental note that might be something to work on the next time they trained together, if he had been a criminal, he could have had Tim on the ground by now.

"Bruce!" Tim gasped. "You scared me."

"I can see that." He looked from Tim to the girl. He could tell now why she had looked so scared. Tim looked awful. His skin was clammy and pale. He had a wild look in his eye, and his pupils shifted rapidly from one side to the other. Bruce hadn't seen him looked this frightened since . . .

"Everything okay?" Bruce asked, pushing the thought from his mind. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

Tim looked ready to say something, but couldn't seem to get his mouth open. The girl stepped forward instead. "He said he wasn't feeling good, and wanted some air. It is kind of stuffy in the gym," she explained. Bruce had no doubt she didn't believe it herself.

"Right. Why don't you go back, before the teacher notices you're gone."

"Yes, sir. I mean, Mr. Wayne, sir."

She turned and ran off. Bruce turned back to Tim. "What's wrong."

"N-nothing, nothing. I'm just not feeling good."

Bruce held him tighter and glared into Tim's eyes. "Timothy Drake, do not lie to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"Jesus Drake, you look like you've seen a ghost." Damian said, coming up beside them.

Tim didn't seem to notice him, and instead fell right into Bruce, pressing his forehead into Bruce's chest and wrapping his arms around his torso. Bruce stumbled back a little, caught off guard. Then he put his own arms around Tim. Out of the corner of his eyes Bruce could see Damian's face scrunching in confusion.

Bruce sighed and tried to gently pull Tim away, but he wouldn't let go. This was going to be hard.

. . .

 _Sam's Diner, Parking lot._

Dick was, of course, surprised to see someone sitting the front seat of his police car. He still had time on his lunch break after Bruce left, and had went into the diner to grab a sandwich before he had to go, and to assure Sue that everything was ago, and promise Sam he'd bring Bruce back for an actual meal.

He stopped outside the diner, comfortably full and ready to go back to the office for a long day of sitting on his ass. He didn't mind the early shift, really, but not much crime happened during the day. Sometimes he'd be sent out to check on some "suspicion" person call, or a store robbery, but never anything serious. Night was the time for action, but if he was Officer Grayson, he couldn't be Nightwing at the same time. He was near the car at this point, and almost broke out laughing. It must have belonged to someone else, and he almost walked right into it. That would have been embarrassing. Only, it was Bludhaven police car, and what was the chances one was so far outside of the city? And that _was_ where he parked.

Dick walked up to it, and could see exactly who it was in the passenger seat. He tugged his door handle, but it was still locked. He pulled out his keys and unlocked it, the man in the car not even looking up from his phone. Dick slipped into the driver's seat.

"What are you doing here, Jason?"

"Waiting for you. Geez, Bruce left almost twenty minutes ago, what was taking you so long?"

"I was eating. It is my lunch break. How did you even get in here, the door was locked."

Jason scoffed. "You honestly think this is my first time in a police car?"

"Good point, I know you'd been in the _back_ of one quite a bit."

"Very funny," Jason mumbled.

"What do you want?"

"With you? Honestly, I don't know. I snuck out of the manor before Bruce walked in. Then stuck around and saw him leaving, thought I'd follow him. I was surprised to find him in this dump. Do you actually eat here? Ugh. Well, anyway, he looked pissed, so I decided to join you."

"Don't you have any friends or hobbies?" Dick asked.

"Nope. Not really."

Dick stared at him, shaking his head. "Jason, what do you really want? Following Bruce around like this, something's wrong."

Jason sighed. "Dick, I've been back for a while. He knew I was Red Hood almost since the beginning, and I think he knew about me being alive, even before that."

"Jason, I don't-" Dick stopped. Jason was looking away from him, staring out the window. He probably didn't even think of the fact that Dick could see the tears in his eyes from his reflection.

"He never tried to look for me. I mean, he did. When I started causing trouble, you know that. But he never looked for Jason, just for Red Hood." Dick looked down, feeling guilty, though there was no real reason for it. He hadn't done anything, at least not on purpose. "Did he even care? Whatever, I can accept that he never killed the Joker. Fine. Batman will be Batman. Doesn't kill, even if someone kills his Robin. But did he even care? Did Bruce care? Did he cry for me? Look for me? Did he even think about how it felt when. . ."

Jason stopped and buried his face in his hands. He wasn't crying, not really, but he was as close as Jason could get. Dick put a hand on his shoulder.

"Jason, you need to talk to him."

"It won't matter. You know how stubborn he is. He decided I'm not good enough. I'm not in the Batfamily, and I'm not a Wayne."

Dick was silent for a minute. He stood slightly, as much as he could in his seat. He grabbed the cell phone from his back pocket and quickly called his boss.

"Hey, I need a favor . . . Yeah, yeah I know . . . I have a family emergency . . . Okay, how about I come in for the night shift, then? . . . Okay, good. Thanks, I owe ya."

"What are you doing?" Jason asked as Dick hung up his phone.

" _I'm_ not doing anything. _We're_ going to see Bruce."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much to those who had favorited, followed, liked, and commented on this story! And too all other people reading in secret, haha! You guys are the best! Please rate and review to let me know that you enjoy. Or that you don't!**

 _Wayne Manor, foyer._

Bruce sighed, resisting the urge to yell for help. He had two sons to deal with right now, and in two very different ways. Damian was standing in front of him, arms crossed and a smirk on his face, daring Bruce to try and punish him. Bruce wasn't exactly sure what to do with Damian. He had tried grounding him, once, and all that led to was Damian sneaking out and running around Gotham. He tried to reward him to get him to behave, but all that led to was fueling Damian's spoiled and superior attitude.

Bruce at least knew he should be mad and Damian, but had no idea what to do with Tim. He had been silent the whole ride home, and now was clinging to Bruce's shoulder, his head resting on Bruce's upper arm. He seemed fragile, and Bruce was almost worried if he yelled at Damian, Tim would crack.

Luckily, someone in the house was good at this. Alfred came running around the corner, just as Bruce was ready to yell at the both of them to give him a minute to think.

"Master Bruce, why are the children home so early?" He asked, glancing at the watch on his wrist. "You better not have been speeding home with them in the car."

"I am not a child, Pennyworth." Damian growled.

Bruce rubbed at his eyes with one hand. "Watch it, Damian. You're in enough trouble as it is," he warned. Bruce turned toward Alfred, sighing with exasperation. "We had an incident at school."

Alfred looked from Damian to Tim. Damian, defiant as always. Tim was the one who gave him a surprise. "What is the matter, Master Timothy? Are you ill?"

Tim didn't answer, but snuggled closer to Bruce. He was going pale again, and Bruce decided taking care of him was probably the more urgent issue.

"Damian, go sit in your room and wait for me," Bruce ordered, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Fine, but I don't appreciate being kept waiting," Damian said as he stomped up the stairs.

"Maybe I should just keep you locked in there then," Bruce grunted, shaking his head. he turned back to Tim. "Tim, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing," Tim stammered.

Alfred raised an eyebrow to Bruce. "Perhaps the young master would like to lie down on the couch? I could fix a snack."

"No," Tim whimpered.

Alfred shook his head, "I know you hate asking for help, Master Timothy, but you've been running around all summer. I think some relaxation will do you good."

"I said I'm fine," Tim snapped, as much as Tim could snap.

Alfred was shocked, but only showed it with a slight widening on his eyes. Bruce clapped a hand down on Tim's shoulder, making him shudder. "You know better than to talk back to Alfred. Now, you will apology and do as he said, and thank him for caring for you when he gives you your food."

Tim shook his head and backed away, heading for the stairs. Bruce grabbed his shoulder, and spun him back around, leading him toward the living room. Once there, Bruce pushed him down on the couch, maybe slightly more harshly than he planned on.

"Tim, you have not been yourself today. You've been acting strangely ever since I came back. I know my . . . disappearance was tough on you, but I will not excuse your behavior right now. Skipping class to hang out with some girl? Talking back to Alfred? Disobeying me? This is not like you, Timothy. I don't like it. What's bothering you?"

Tim shook his leg until Bruce shot him a glare. "I can't tell you," he said.

Bruce knelt down so he was at Tim's eye level. Tim kept his head down and to the side, but Bruce grabbed his chin and made him look up. "Timothy Drake, I think we both know I'm not taking that as an answer."

Alfred came out, carrying a tray of fruit and cups of tea. He set it down on the coffee table, and was starting to walk away. Tim broe out of Bruce's grasp and turned to him. "Alfred, I'm sorry for yelling at you."

Alfred cracked a smile, but only for a moment. "It's quite alright, Master Timothy. I understand that you have been under stress recently. I know it's important to be patient."

That last part was directed at Bruce, and he knew it. Bruce sighed once Alfred had walked away and laid a hand on Tim's knee. "Look, Tim, I know thing have been hard on you recently, but you need to talk about it, to works things through, or else you're never going to move past it."

Tim nodded. He knew Bruce was right. After everything that had happened to him - the Joker, his father's death, Steph's death - Bruce always made him talk things through, either with him or Alfred, or Dick occasionally, though he had no desire to talk to him about anything recently. It wasn't like he could see any real therapists and talk about Batman issues, but he couldn't tell his family everything.

Tim thought about his current predicament. He could simply tell Bruce the truth: that Arianna had mentioned someone named Dr. Napier, and he might have jumped to conclusions and thought "Joker" way too soon. But Bruce's reaction to that is what stopped him. At best, Bruce would shake his head, tell Tim he was overreacting, and try to laugh it off. At worst, he would go complete what Tim and Dick called Batman-obsessive-mode: he'd track this doctor down, basically stalk her, and look for any signs to connect her to the Joker. He'd probably force Tim and Damian to stay in the house, only leaving for school and then coming right back. If he was going to let anyone help him it would be Alfred, even making Nightwing stay out of Gotham. Bruce did not fool around when it came to the Joker. He had lost Jason to him, and he almost Tim. Tim didn't know of any details, but he wouldn't have been surprised to learn that at some point the Joker had threatened Dick's life.

So, that was a no-go. He wouldn't have Bruce obsessing over that, at least not until he found out more information. Yes, that's what he'd do. Tim would figure it out himself, go all Tim-Drake-obsessive-mode. He wouldn't worry Bruce until he knew he had to. Maybe he wouldn't even have to. It couldn't actually be the Joker, but it could be Harley or some other low-life trying to stir up trouble, and if it was, Tim could handle it himself.

"Bruce, I will talk about it, but not with you. I just can't, and you have to understand. But I have a friend who'll listen to me."

"That girl?" Bruce guessed.

Tim blushed, but nodded. "Yeah. Her."

Bruce looked like he was about to say something, but instead shook his head. "Nothing Batman related," he warned.

Tim could have laughed at that. It wasn't like Bruce never told a woman he liked about Batman stuff - Selina Kyle, Talia al Ghul, Jezebel Jet - and they all managed to screw him over at some point. If anything, Tim had better luck with whom he trusted knowing his identity.

"Of course not," Tim said. "I lied to her before about stuff - well not lied, but I, you know, changed things around a bit."

Bruce nodded. "Alright. But if you keep acting . . . strangely, you're going to need to talk to me. Understand?"

Tim nodded. He'd just have to learn to be a better actor. "Mind if I use the Batcave to do my homework?"

Bruce furrowed his brow. "Why?"

 _Stupid,_ Tim thought. He could have just went down there, Bruce wouldn't have cared - he told him plenty of times that the everything in the Batcave belonged to all of them, to a point, anyway. Bruce wouldn't even have questioned if he was in there.

"It helps me think," Tim said.

Bruce shrugged. "Sure, Kiddo. You have homework already?"

"Yeah, criminal justice. Teacher's crazy. I figured being in the home of Gotham's greatest crime fighter might help me think."

Bruce laughed and ruffled Tim's hair. "I'm sure you'll do fine with that class."

Tim smiled, feeling very warm and loved for the first time in a long time. He threw his arms around Bruce's shoulders, making him stumble back in surprise. Bruce regained his balance and hugged him back, rubbing Tim's back with one of his hands. Tim thought he could have stayed like that forever.

The front door opened, loud enough so they could hear it from the livingroom. Bruce untangled himself from Tim. "Hello?" he called.

His first thought was that maybe Damian had gotten tired of waiting and had walked right through the front door. He didn't think it could be anyone else, he could hear Alfred cleaning up in the kitchen.

Someone came down the hall towards them. Bruce tightened his hands in a fist, ready to attack if it was an intruder. He pushed Tim behind him, momentarily forgetting that Tim could handle someone breaking in almost as well as him.

It wasn't an intruder though. Dick came around the corner, still in his police uniform.

"Dick? What are you doing here?" He asked, dropping his hand down. "I thought you had to work."

"I called out. Family emergency. Bruce, you two need to talk."

Bruce looked over at Tim, who was still standing behind him but peering over his shoulder. He turned back to Dick. "Us two?"

"What? No, you and-" Dick turned to point at someone, but realized he was alone. "Damn it!" He spun around and walked back into the hallway.

"Jason come on!" Dick yelled.

"No, I told you I don't want to do this."

"Come on you have to."

Dick came back in, pulling Jason by the wrist. Once they were in the living room Jason pulled his arm away from Dick's grasp. He turned his head away and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You two," Dick said, pointing at Bruce and Jason, "have a lot to talk about. And neither of you are going to leave this room until you're done.

"Whatever," Jason said, rolling his eyes.

Dick smiled. "Come on Tim, let's give them some privacy. We can go watch a movie if you want."

"I have stuff to do." Tim said. He turned to Bruce and smiled. "You know, I think this is good. If you don't talk about it, work things through, or else you're never going to move past it." He walked away, glaring slightly at Jason when he passed.

Bruce shook his head. "Never knew he was so cheeky."

"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. Hanging with my best friend, you know, Alfie."

Then, they were alone. Jason still refused to look at Bruce. "Do you want to sit?" Bruce asked.

"I like standing," Jason muttered, "It's easier to leave that way."

Both of them stayed silent for a moment. If he listened hard enough, Bruce could hear Dick and Alfred whispering in the other room. The two of them could never keep out of their business. "Jason, I don't know what you want me to say. That everything's okay? Because it's not. I know that when you came back you were killing people, manipulating the gangs. Sure, I know you were only hurting the bad guys, but you also know I don't approve of it. Jason, you were always-"

"A mistake?" Jason snapped, cutting him off.

"What?"

"Why don't you just say what you're thinking, Bruce? I was the biggest mistake you ever made. I saw that video will you left."

"That's not what I meant," Bruce protested.

"Sure, fine, whatever. That _you_ made the mistake, not getting me help, but you know what, Bruce? It was still me. You obviously didn't care. You knew I was back and that meant nothing to you?"

"Jason, you can't blame me. You came back and were hurting people. You killed people, ran away from us, and tried to kill Tim - twice from what I hear. And that's not even counting you fighting with Dick over him being Batman."

"Bet if they died you would have cared."

"What?"

"Goddamn it Bruce! I was dead! Do you know what it was like for me? When I was dying, thinking somehow you'd make it in time? That you'd be able to take the pain away and stop-" Jason choked back a sob. He shook his head. "And then, when I woke up in my own grave? I crawled my way out. I went through so much to be able to _walk_ again, Bruce. You don't even want to know what I went through to get to where I am know. And then, after all that, I come back to find you, and you replaced me? Did I really mean that little to you that you could pluck up whatever brat you could find and he was the new Robin?"

"Jason-"

"How long?" His voice trembled, and his fists shook at his side. "How long did you wait before seeking someone else out? Was it days? Weeks? At least tell me it was a couple months. Lie to me if you have to!"

Bruce stood again. "Jason, you don't know what happened. It was hard for me too! You were my son, and I failed you. I couldn't protect you." He dropped back onto the couch and hung his head. "I didn't want another Robin. I figured I'd be fine by myself. But I wasn't. You should have seen the headlines. 'Batman Lost his Touch', 'Gotham's Dark Knight Can't Handle Loss', hell, even the villains seemed sympathetic. I was willing to work alone, to never put another child in danger. I didn't even want Nightwing's help anymore, but, well, you know Dick. I knew I could never find another you, as Robin or Jason. I didn't look, Tim came to me. He knew I was Batman, figured it out on my own. The kid was _good_ Jason, and he wanted this. Wanted this more than anything. But I never meant to replace you."

Jason looked down, but Bruce didn't miss the tears in his eyes. He grabbed him and pulled him into a hug. Jason went rigid at first, but then slowly put his own arms around Bruce. "Jason, I could never replace you, even if I tried. Jason, I love you. You and your brothers - and they are your brothers - you are the most important things in my life. I love all of you so much."

Jason moved one of his arms to wipe at his face. Then he pulled away from Bruce. "I love you too. But, we should stop Dick and Alfred are spying."

Dick walked back into the room from his hiding place right behind the wall next to the archway. He had his arms wide open and put one around Bruce's shoulders, and the other around Jason. "Oh, I love you guys. I think this calls for a family hug! Alfred, you better get in here too! Oh, and someone get Tim and Damian."

"Ah, crap!" Bruce groaned, suddenly remembering a very impatient little boy waiting for him. He broke away from Dick and headed back into the hallway.

"What was that about?" Jason asked.

"I believe Master Bruce is going to have a talk with Master Damian."

"Dami? What'd he do?" Dick asked.

"I believe that is between the two of them. Curiosity killed the cat, Master Richard. Now then, shall I set a place for the two of you at the table tonight."

"'Course," Dick said, "After having your meals everyday for the past few months I don't know how I'm going to go back to microwaved food and take-out."

"And for you, Master Jason?"

"Yeah," he said. "Do you think Bruce would let me stay here for a while too? It's just, you know, his beds are way more comfortable."

Alfred smiled. "I'm sure that can be arranged."

...

 _Wayne Manor, Damian's room_

Damian sat on his bed, flipping through the pages of the summer reading book he had stuffed in his bedside drawer. He had actually read it all, since Grayson hadn't let him go on patrol unless he read at least two chapters every day, but he was entertaining himself flipping through it, looking at the rather bland pictures the author had included every once in awhile. He hadn't paid them any mind when he was reading - unlike other kids his age, he didn't need pictures to find books entertaining - but he was so bored waiting for Father.

He couldn't hear anything down stairs, but he could guess what was going on. Father was probably comforting Drake, hugging him and tucking him in for a rest on the couch while he watched some dumb television show. Pennyworth was probably fussing about, making him cookies or serving something to drink. It was ridiculous, Drake deserved to be punished just as much as Damian did - heck, more than Damian did! Drake had skipped class to flirt with some girl, and all Damian had done was defend his honor in front of his imbecile classmates. He had had a hard day, and he was the one who deserved to be coddled by his father and Pennyworth, not Drake. Both of them should have been able to tell that Drake was just acting ill to avoid punishment and be given attention. It was disgusting!

Damian closed his book and threw it against the wall. He was so frustrated. Drake constantly did everything he could to get Father's attention away from him. Damian fell back against his pillows. He'd have to do something to get back at Drake, and Damian had the feeling that he'd have plenty of time to think up a revenge plan the next few days.

The door opened, and Damian bolted up. Father stood there, looking down at him with a very angry look in his eye. Not quite as angry as he had seen him give Grayson after he came back, but still very angry. Very much a Batman glare, but one he would give to a robber, not a supercriminal. Still scary enough, but Damian sat straight, showing no fear.

"We need to talk," Bruce said.

"Indeed we do. Father, I do not appreciate what happened downstairs."

"You- what?"

"I do not appreciate you ignoring me for Drake."

Bruce shook his head. "I wasn't ignoring you, Damian. I thought that Tim needed my help. Honestly, I thought you'd like me dealing with him first, since you are in a lot of trouble."

Damian crossed his arms and pouted slightly. "It does not matter. You are my father, and your first concern should be caring for me. You did not even bother to ask how my day was."

"I'm guessing it didn't go too well."

"Of course it did not! You put me in a school filled with the types of people who annoy me the most, people like Drake; spoiled rich brats who think they are so intelligent and superior."

Bruce had to fight the smile on his lips. If it Dick had said that when he was Damian's age, Bruce might have reminded them that most people probably view him the same way. That wouldn't work with Damian, it would just get him mad and make his dislike for his classmates grow even faster.

"Damian, I honestly don't care if those people annoy you. I can assure you, some of the smartest, nicest, greatest kids in Gotham go to that school, and they deserve to be treated with just as much respect as you do." Damian started to say something, but Bruce cut him off, "even though you're the son of Batman and were trained by the league of assassins, the other students there still deserve your respect."

"Father, you do not understand. They were not show _me_ any respect."

"That's because kids don't care who your parents are. You have to earn respect by treating other people well and being kind. Damian, I'm sure it's been hard on you lately, but you can't go pushing others around just because things are frustrating and confusing." Surprisingly, he didn't argue back. Instead, Damian just looked down, seeming to thinking things through. Bruce put a hand on his shoulder. "Damian, you understand I have to punish you for this, right?"

His head shot back up. "Why? You didn't punish Drake for skipping classes! You didn't punish Grayson for messing up as Batman! You didn't even punish Todd for hurting people! How can you possibly punish me for something so trivial?"

"Damian, how I deal with your brothers is none of your business. If you must know, I did talk to all of them about their behavior, but no, they did not get punished like you are going to be. Dick is an adult and lives by himself. Jason is a complicated situation, and Tim leaving class is nothing compared to _assaulting_ someone."

"Fine, ground me if you want to, Father, but I'll just leave again."

Bruce glared down at him even harder than before. Damian turned away from him, knowing he had made his father even more angry than he had wanted to. "Look at me, Damian," Bruce growled, and Damian turned back to his father. "You do _not_ threaten me with running away, and you do not try to run away, or so help me you'll wish all you're getting is a grounding. Understand?"

Damian looked down. Before, his father had threatened to send him away to a boarding school if he didn't learn to behave. He never mentioned it again, but the fear was still there, scratching at the back of his mind. Though he'd never admit it, he loved his father. He didn't want to lose him, not again. "Yes Father. I won't try to run away."

Bruce let himself smile this time. "Good boy. Now, your little act of rebellion got you suspended for a week, so while you're out of school-"

"Let me guess, I am to stay in my room?" Damian finished.

"Yeah, sure, in here where you have TV and videogames and your phone? I don't think so. Unless you're sleeping, you're going to be under supervision to make sure you don't do anything you're not supposed to. That means following Alfred around during the day and helping him with any chores," Bruce explained. "If you refuse to do what he asks you or give him any attitude, I'll have to stay home with you, and you wouldn't want that."

"But, that's not fair! You have no right-"

"I have every right Damian, I'm your father, and I think you know you deserve this." Damian blushed and turned away. Bruce held his hand out to him. "Come on, let's go downstairs. You can start doing some of that homework you're going to be missing."

"But father, it is the first day, I don't know anything yet."

"Should have thought of that before you got suspended." Bruce grabbed Damian's hand and pulled him to standing. "I think between the two of us we will be able to figure it all out. After all, I think you're a smart enough kid to handle middle-school-level work."

Even Damian couldn't help but smile at the pride brewing inside him. His father had just called him smart, and it left a warm feeling inside of him.

"Father, I'm glad you're back." Damian said for the first time since Bruce's return. He quickly added, "don't go telling that to anyone, I'll deny it."

Bruce smiled and gave Damian a little hug around his shoulders. "Your secret's safe with me."

. . .

 _Wayne Manor, Batcave_

Tim yawned and checked his watch. Six o'clock. At some point in the next thirty minutes Alfred would be calling him to come upstairs and get some dinner. Tim wondered if Dick and Jason would still be there, and he hoped that they wouldn't. If they did, he'd have to sit their and be polite to them under Alfred's watchful eye, and he did not have the energy for that right now. Pretending to be nice to Damian was hard enough.

He looked back at the computer screen. He had found nothing in all of Batman's databases on a female Dr. Napier. There were a couple of pictures where the Joker had donned a doctor costume that looked like something bought at Goodwill the night before Halloween.

Tim sighed. He hadn't even started reading his criminal justice articles. He had originally planned on a system: look for information for a bit, read one of the articles, look for information for a bit, write a summary of the article he just read, and repeat. Instead, he had been stuck on the first part for hours now.

Someone came down the elevator, and Tim quickly closed out of the computer. He put his papers in front of him and pretended to read. The last thing he wanted was Bruce or Alfred scolding him for slacking off.

"Timbo!" a voice said. Tim felt a shiver crawl through him. "What's you doing? Pretending to do your homework?"

"I'm not pretending," Tim snapped.

Jason came over and grabbed the notebook Tim had planned on writing his summaries in, but all he had managed was "Criminal Justice Articles" along the top. "Yeah, sure, I can see you're really pulling your weight here. Ha, don't be discouraged, I was the master of tricking Alfred and Bruce. I don't think I did a homework assignment once."

"And somehow you didn't graduate," Tim mumbled.

Jason leaned into Tim's face. "Hey, you know I died! Jesus, don't be a jerk, kid."

Tim turned away from him and went back to reading - actually reading this time. Jason didn't go away, but kept on lingering. "What do you want?" Tim asked.

"Wow, okay, no need to get snappy with me." Jason put his hands up as if surrendering. Tim rolled his eyes. "Look, I wanted to know if you wanted to do something. With me. You know, go to an arcade or movie or do some drugs; whatever you crazy teens do nowadays. I don't know, it's been a while since I was alive doing normal things."

Tim looked up at Jason for a second, then turned back to his papers. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Jason gasped, "What? Why the hell not?"

"You broke into Titan Tower and beat me until I was unconscious."

"I was testing your skills. You passed, by the way, since you, you know, didn't die. Not like an A passing. Not really a B passing either. You got like a C. It was okay, but you could have tried a little harder."

"You tried to kill me with a batarang."

"I did not try to kill you. I stabbed you in the shoulder. The shoulder is not a vital organ. Besides you were fine. Hell, you even got a trip to Paris after it with plenty of time to recover." Tim ignored him, and kept on reading. Jason put his arm around Tim's shoulders. "You know what, Timmy? You should have sided with me. If I became Batman, you never would have been fired for being a shitty Robin, and I only would have beaten you a little bit when you disobeyed me."

"Gee, really seemed like I missed out. I would have loved to be right next to you when Dick hauled your ass to Arkham."

Jason pulled away from him. "Wow, okay, that's a little harsh. Fine, I thought we could be friends there Timmy, but clearly not. Fine. I'll just go be friends with Damian instead." He stormed away towards the elevated, purposely being loud and dramatic.

"Please do," Tim muttered.

"And also, how dare you go and kill the Joker. Really. I wanted to be the one to that. He _killed_ me. All you got was tortured for a few hours. So what?" Jason called for the elevator.

"Hey, Jason, wait." Tim called as he stood up.

"Rethinking my offer of friendship?" Jason asked turning away from the open elevator.

"No. Well, I don't know. But I think you might want to help me out with something."

"Doubt it."

"It might involve people who were connected to the Joker."

Jason let the elevator doors shut behind him. He walked back over toward the large supercomputer and took the open seat next to Tim. "Alright kid, don't disappoint me."


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! Sorry this took a while, I've been busy with school and stuff. But this chapter is pretty long, so hopefully you guys will enjoy!**

 **I've gotten a couple of complaints about people being out of character. Mostly, Tim. Obviously, I am not an amazing writing or anything, and I did not create these characters, and I think that is always hard to write perfectly in character. Comics are also a difficult thing to work with, since they vary so much from writer or writer. There's also the problem with the fact I am mixing different universes. To defend myself, which might seem a bit petty to do with a fanfiction, my thought process on making Tim seem a little off is because I am including the Batman Beyond idea where he was tortured by the Joker, which I mention in early chapters and will play a big part later on. I also do want to mention that Tim does act a little unreasonable after Bruce "dies" and Damian become Robin: namely, running off to look for him even though everyone else thinks he is dead. Anyway, I do want to point out that the other characters also admit that Tim is acting strange, and he will be getting better.**

 **Anyway, enough shamelessly defending myself. My apologies if you do not like the story, that's fine. A great big thanks to those who do, and I will work on making other characters more in character if there are issues, as I really have no excuse beyond the whole comic/movie/etc inconsistency.**

 **Please rate & review!**

 _Wayne Manor, living room_

Jason let out a hearty laugh, the kind that started deep in his stomach and boiled up out out of his mouth. Tim knew it was probably the first time in a long time Jason had laughed like that, but he still couldn't have the shudder of anger that moved through him.

"Jesus Timmy, what's this school teaching you?" Jason laughed again, and Tim resisted the urge to throw something at him.

Tim remembered hearing that Jason could be careless, but he never thought he could be this _stupid._ Since they couldn't find anything in Batman's databases, after dinner they had decided to move upstairs on their own personal laptops. It was better, because Bruce wouldn't question why they were hanging out in the Batcave all day. It was worse because they had no way of knowing where the rest of the family was. No one else in the house could know what they were doing: Bruce would freak out if he thought that there was even a chance the Joker would be back. Alfred would scold them for looking into such a thing, saying it was foolish but then at the first opportunity tell Bruce what they were up to, because the Joker's return would scare Alfred just as much as it would anyone else. Dick had left for the night, but if he'd heard what they were doing he would have made jokes about how the two of them were paranoid, but then probably say it was a good thing they were bonding. Damian would - well, it was hard to tell what Damian would do, but Tim knew it wouldn't be good, so better to just keep him out of it all together.

Jason laughed again, and this time Tim turned toward him. "Will you be quiet! Someone is going to hear."

Jason frowned. "So? You need to relax. All I'm doing is appreciating the lovely education you're getting," he waved around the papers in his hand, which were the articles Tim was _supposed_ to be reading. "This one basically says that all vigilantes do what they do because they can't accept evil in the world. And this one, from Star City, says that Green Arrow most likely has some type of a superiority complex with an inflated ego. Okay that one might actually be true, but you should hear the crap they say about Batman."

Alfred walked into the doorway, dressed in his pajamas. He looked partially alarmed, partially exhausted. "I thought I heard someone down here. What are the two of you doing?"

"We're just having some brotherly bonding!" Jason said with an over inflated voice and a forced, cheek-splitting grin across his face.

"At two o'clock in the morning?"

"What?" Tim said, checking his watch then double checking the time on his computer.

"Master Timothy I suggest you go and get ready for bed, you have school tomorrow. You know I am worried about your awful sleep patterns."

"Sorry Alfred, I just lost track of time," Tim explained, grabbing his laptop and books.

"Mind if I keep this one?" Jason asked, waving the article on Green Arrow. "I want to send a copy to Roy."

Tim snatched it from and headed of the room.

"Goodnight, Master Timothy."

Tim nodded and walked out. Alfred walked over to where Jason was sitting, his laptop still open to an article about that doctor. He had found a page about her in Arkham's public databases. Alfred looked at the screen, then back to Jason.

"Looking for a therapist, Master Jason?"

"Huh? Oh, no, it was something I was looking at for Tim. He think it has something to do with the Joker." Jason scrolled up to the top of the page, where their was a picture of Dr. Napier, smiling in her lab coat and a pair of this glasses. Alfred raised an eyebrow at the picture. "Tim thinks she's-"

"Harley Quinn?" Alfred guessed. "I see a resemblance. She disappeared after the Joker died. Master Bruce tried to track her down, but she went quiet. It was like without the Joker she was nothing." Alfred was quiet for a moment, then he looked up again. "I think Master Bruce was able to track her down, or was very close at one time. It was shortly after, and Master Timothy was still being treated for the psychological damage and wasn't allowed out as Robin, so Master Bruce was on his own. He told me that he thought he found her, but I didn't hear anything else until he came home that night."

"Let me guess, Bruce didn't find her, and didn't say anything else." Alfred didn't answer. Jason shook his head. "Typical Bruce. He should have killed the Joker after what happened to me."

"Master Jason," Alfred snapped.

"Come on Alf, you know it's true. Think off all the people who died because of him, or what happened to Tim, or _me._ I thought as least _my_ death would cause Bruce to realize that the Joker doesn't deserve to live. And if Tim didn't shoot the Joker, do you think Bruce would have? After he killed one son and tortured another, Bruce would just let him be locked in Arkham, _again._ "

"I understand your feelings, Master Jason, but you know what Master Bruce thinks of killing." Alfred nodded his head toward the computer. "What do you think of that?"

"I think it's nothing. I think Tim's being a paranoid idiot and is acting like a little pussy. But, we looked it up, and this Doctor Napier has interns from all over Gotham, and they're high school kids, Alfred."

Alfred smiled slightly. "And you want to save them."

"If they need to be. I'm not riding out their on my motorcycle with my gun out yet, but I will if I have to."

"Master Jason. . ."

"And I'll shoot someone too, if I have to. You can tell Bruce that, maybe he'll learn something." Jason stood and grabbed his computer and started to walk off.

"Please understand, that Master Bruce did everything in his power to protect you. To protect everyone. But I believe Master Bruce to be, for the most part, incapable of killing."

Jason looked back at Alfred, but just shook his head and kept walking away.

. . .

 _Wayne Manor, Bruce's Study_

"Anything I can get for you, sirs?" Alfred asked, one hand still on the doorknob.

Bruce looked over at scowling Damian who was currently reading a book from his English class, making up some of the work he was missing. For the past couple of days Damian had been following around Alfred while Bruce was out; but Bruce had decided to stay home and give Alfred a break. Only, Alfred had insisted Damian had been on his best behavior, and Bruce was shocked at how quiet and patient he had been all day.

"I'm all set," Bruce said. "Damian?"

"I'm fine, Father," he mumbled.

"Are you sure, Master Damian? I could get you a snack."

"I am perfectly capable of telling when I want something, Pennyworth."

"Damian, be polite to Alfred."

Damian rolled his eyes. "My apologies, Pennyworth. Thank you, but I am perfectly alright." He turned back to his book.

"I will be downstairs if either of you need me, sirs."

"Wait Alfred," Bruce said, "I need to speak with you for a second. Damian, could you step out?"

Damian got up, Bruce knew he was probably happy for even just a minute out of his father's sight. For the past few days he or Alfred had watched Damian like a hawk, as Bruce had promised. Once Damian was out, Alfred shut the door.

"If something the matter, Master Bruce."

"No, that's just it. Things have been very quiet around here."

"I don't see how that is a problem."

Bruce sighed. "I haven't talked to Dick much, but Damian's been on his best behavior, Tim's been fine ever since that weird way he acted on Monday, and during the day Jason is so quiet I'm not even sure if he's here half the time, and at night he's perfectly happy and talkative with all of us."

"I still fail to see the problem, sir. If you don't mind me saying, it sounds like everything's fine."

"I know," Bruce grunted, "that's the strange part. I walked downstairs yesterday and Jason and Tim were up, talking doing something on their computers just like old friends, and two months ago they were trying to kill each other."

Alfred grinned, and Bruce had the strange feeling that he was hiding something. "Perhaps they are just all learning to get along. Now, if Master Damian and Master Timothy were the ones being civil, then I'd believe we have a problem."

"Very funny. Where are the boys?"

"I believe Master Richard come over, and he and Master Jason were downstairs not too long ago, sir. Master Timothy is in the living room doing some homework, with a girl."

"What?" Bruce asked. "What girl?"

"I believe you met Miss Arianna King the other day, when you picked the boys up from school, sir."

"She's here? I didn't realize they were, you know, friends."

"I assure you, Master Bruce, that Miss King is a lovely young lady. I met her a couple of times before your return and she helped Master Timothy a lot after he came back from looking for you. I think this is the first time he's brought her here when anyone besides myself was home."

"Why is this the first I am hearing about this?"

Alfred shrugged, "I assumed it would be Master Timothy's duty to tell you, sir."

"I don't like this. It isn't good."

Alfred shook his head. "On the contrary, sir, I think it is good. It means Master Timothy is moving on from the unfortunate loss of Miss Stephanie."

"Not that," Bruce said, "no, no, it is good Tim's finding help with that, he's lost a lot of people close to him, I understand. But it isn't safe for him to get close to someone like that. I mean, think about it Alfred, we lucked out so far. Sure, it worked out with Stephanie, and it worked out with Dick and Barbara, but those were very different circumstances. What is going to happen when she starts questioning things, when Tim's busy every night and can't go on dates whenever she wants? What if she gets a little too curious, or, God forbid, if she has some connection with our enemies? Do you see how danger this is?"

Alfred nodded slowly. "I see sir. You are afraid of Miss King's character, or her finding out about our secret. May I remind you that Miss Stephanie and Master Timothy worked together as Spoiler and Robin, and she was none-the-wiser to his identity. The two of them could have went on together for years and she'd never know his real name."

Bruce slammed a hand down on his desk. "But Tim told her, and look how that turned out know."

"Master Bruce, Miss Stephanie's death had nothing to do with her relationship with Master Timothy. Now, it may be out of line for me to say this, but I feel I must point out that you have no right to criticize the boys for their choice in women. considering whom you chose to . . . _associate_ with"

Bruce was silent for a minute. His jaw moved as he tried to say something, and finally blurted out, "What does that mean?"

"May I remind you of Miss Jezebel Jet, whom you confided in our secrets in?"

Bruce's face flushed, partially with anger and partially with embarrassment. "Well, yes, but-"

"Or how about Miss Kyle? Did you ever consider the repercussions of associating with someone you were fighting against. And then of course, there's Talia al Ghul-"

"Alfred," Bruce hissed, pointing to the door.

Alfred opened it, revealed Damian standing there with his ear cupped against the wood. "Master Damian, you know better than to eavesdrop."

Before Damian could say anything to defend himself, Bruce was already standing.

"Alfred, can you watch him for a few minutes? I have to go figure something out."

. . .

Jason stood flat against the wall that divided the kitchen from one of the living rooms. He knew he had a ridiculous look on his face, but it was all he could do to stop himself from erupting with laughter.

"Dude, I go to the bathroom for five minutes and you go crazy in that time?" Dick asked once he was back in the kitchen.

"Dick you don't understand. Tim's in there with a girl."

"What?" Dick asked. He peered over the side of the archway until he could just barely see Tim sitting on the couch with a dark-haired girl. "You know what this means?"

"Oh yeah, I know. We need to mess with him."

"Nah, Jason. We shouldn't." Dick said, a smile on his face. "But I mean, we'd be terrible brothers if we didn't make sure she was good for him."

"True. Go ahead Dickie-bird, you're the expert at embarrassing brothers on dates."

"You're lucky I did, that girl was a total jerk."

 _Wayne Manor, Living Room_

Dick slipped into the living room from the kitchen. He checked over his shoulder, and Jason gave him a thumbs up. When he turned back Tim and the girl were looking up at him.

"Oh, hi guys. Whatcha doing?"

Tim looked at the textbook in his lap, then looked back up at Dick. "Homework."

"Nice, always good. Getting the work done so you don't end up failing. Just like Jason."

"Hey!" Jason yelled from the kitchen.

Dick rocked on his heels. "So, what subject."

"History."

"Nice, history. Great subject. What you guys learning about?"

"Eh, it's just about gypsies or something."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Timothy Jackson Drake that is racist!"

Tim turned to the girl, who looked just as confused as he did. "What are you talking, Dick?"

Dick dropped his mouth open, as if he was surprised. "Oh, so first you insult my people and then you call me names?"

"That _is_ your name!" Tim said.

"And you're talking back? Jason come in here!"

Jason walked in, looking completely calm even though he was laughing audibly just second ago. Arianna looked ready to start laughing too. "What seems to be the problem, Richard?"

"Little Timmy has been having a dirty mouth and keeps talking back to me."

"Oh my God," Tim groaned, covering his eyes with his hands. His brother's were up to something, as always. During the past few weeks since Jason returned, him and Dick seemed to think that had free range to tease and pick on Tim and Damian as much as they wanted. Tim didn't mind it, he'd had to deal with Dick since he came to live with Bruce, but did they really have to bother him now?

"Well, I think he needs a punishment then. Timothy, go stand in the corner in the kitchen, Now!" Jason ordered.

Tim rolled his eyes, it was the same thing Bruce would have made him do back when he was younger and had broken some minor rule. Tim turned to Arianna. "Sorry about my brother's, there a little- HEY!"

Tim felt himself be lifted up and thrown over Jason's shoulder. He struggled to get free, but Jason was stronger than he was and held on tight. Of course, Tim could easily get out of him. Holding him this way unrestrained left plenty of room for Tim to kick him in the gut or pound against his spine until he forcible loosened his grip. But of course, he couldn't do anything like that. At the best. Jason would just hit him back and leave. At the worst it could turn into an all-out brawl that would lead to plenty of questions and a very angry Bruce, especially since they were in front of someone non-Batman related who would have an extremely slight chance of recognizing their fighting styles.

"Jason, what the hell?" Tim snapped, going back to wiggling and twisting his way out of Jason's hold, knowing it would do no good.

"Hey, watch your language or I'll wash your mouth out," Jason said, heading toward the kitchen. The second the were out of the living room, Tim was going to kick Jason right in the groin.

"Yeah, alright Alfred." Tim mocked, going limp and pretending to give into the situation.

"Hey, don't talk shit about Alfred, or I'll make you _eat_ a bar of soap."

Dick shook his head, trying to keep in his laughter. He thought that maybe he should go after them and remind Jason he really didn't have the power to punish Tim, but decided it wouldn't do any good anyway. Instead, he sat down in Tim's seat right next to Arianna, who was laughing just as much as he wanted to.

"Hello. Dick Grayson, Tim's older brother."

"I know," she said, "We've met before. You come into the diner where I work sometimes, always get a cup of coffee with just a little bit of milk, but then ask for plenty of sugar on the side." She smiled.

Dick nodded, "sounds like something I would order. Surprised you remember it.

"Oh you're kind of hard to forget. You paid for a cup of coffee and a hamburger with a fifty dollar bill once and left before I could give you change."

"That's where that went." Dick looked the girl over again, the smiled. "Oh, I remember you. You served me when I first went there and told me Tim had been there before."

"Yeah that was me!" Arianna squealed. You should have seen it after you left. All the other girls could do was blush about the fact two of the Wayne kids came in. You guys are like celebrities."

There was a beeping and Arianna pulled out her phone. Dick leaned back on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. "Yeah, we're all pretty great. Anyway, I heard a rumor that you and Tim-"

"Oh crap," she interrupted, standing up suddenly and grabbing her bags. "I have to go. Tell Tim I'll see him tomorrow, will you?"

She rushed out the door. Without her, Dick suddenly became aware of the sound of a scuffle coming from the kitchen. He had almost forgot about Tim and Jason.

He walked in there and took a step back, startled. They were at the sink. Jason had Tim in a headlock and was holding him under the running facete. Tim was thrashing around. trying to hit Jason in the knees but was probably disoriented by anger and the water pouring down over his head.

Dick frowned, "What are you doing?"

Jason shrugged, "I thought it would be funny."

Tim took advantage of Jason being distracted and slipped out of his hold. He looked ready to punch Jason square in the nose, but Dick stepped between them. "Dude, you were just supposed to distract him, not try and waterboard him."

"I don't remember you telling me not to do that."

"I didn't think drowning Tim needed to be on the list of unacceptable things but I'll be sure to add it. Also, we might have scared your girlfriend away."

"Not my girlfriend," Tim mumbled, wiping his face off with a dish towel. "And you didn't scare her off, she had to go to her internship or work or something." Tim looked down at his chest. "Ugh, you got my school shirt all wet."

"Oh what a pity," Jason mocked, "I guess you'll just have to wear one of the other hundred school shirts Alfred bought for you."

"Screw you Jason. I'm going to change."

Tim stormed off, and Jason tried to call after him, claiming he was just kidding. Dick rolled his and took a seat at the counter.

"So, how was the girl?" Jason asked.

Dick shrugged. "She seemed nice. She makes really good milkshakes at the diner she works at."

Jason scrunched up his face, "she works at a diner?"

"Yeah, she's like a waitress. That one I was at the other day when you were following Bruce around. The foods pretty okay,"

Jason nodded, "Tim does like food. I approve of this relationship. I just want to actually know this one before she dies."

"Dude, that's not funny."

"I can make all the death jokes I want, Dick. I crawled out of my own grave."

Dick sighed and shook his head. Bruce entered the kitchen and looked around.

"Have you two seen Tim?"

"Just missed him. He's in his room, I think," Dick said.

"If you're here to embarrass him in front of his girlfriend, it's too late. She left."

"Damn. I need to talk to him about that."

Jason giggled. "What? Going to give him the ole' birds and the bees?"

Dick groaned and covered his face in embarrassment. "Haven't you tortured Tim enough today? Don't even put that thought in Bruce's mind, you know he's terrible at it."

"Thanks Dick. Besides, I already talked to Tim about . . ." Bruce paused, thinking for a minute.

Dick's mouth dropped open, "You never gave Tim the sex talk? His last girlfriend had a baby!"

"Tim's a father?" Jason exclaimed.

"What? No, no. Look, that isn't what I'm worried about. Tim's a responsible kid and- Why am I talking about this with you two."

"It's okay Bruce, we all know Tim's probably going to end up losing his V-card to Superboy anyway." Both Dick and Bruce turned to Jason, there faces twisted. Jason shrugged. "Hey, I calls them as I sees them. Besides, we should worry about Tim's other problems. Like how he's barely slept in three days because he's obsessed with some doctor, or how his superhero persona is also the name of a fast food restaurant."

"What?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah you know, Red Robin. They sell burgers and have those catchy TV commercials. I mean, maybe it was on purpose but-"

"Jason what was that other thing."

"Huh? Oh don't worry about it. You know how Tim is. Obsessive about crazy things and what-not. Like how he literally went off on his own to try and find you and all that other stuff. He's just looking into something that's really nothing."

"Why haven't I heard about this?" Bruce demanded.

"Don't look at me," Dick said, throwing his hands up, "I have no idea what he's talking about."

"Don't worry Bruce," Jason shrugged, "I'm sure once he's back out on patrol with Batman he won't even think about what he's looking into. It's nothing, as far as I know. Don't even worry."

Bruce looked like he was going to demand answers, but shook his head at the last second. "You know what, fine. But I'm watching Tim and you, Jason."

"Wow, okay. Kind of shooting the messenger here, and that's a very un-Batman like thing to do."

Bruce groaned and rubbed at his eyes. "Look, I'm under a lot of stress right not. I have to deal with Damian acting out, Tim acting like he lost his goddamn mind, and cleaning up the mess you two made while I was gone"

"What? Me?" Jason asked. "I mean, I get Dick sure, ruining the name of Batman and all, but what did I do?"

"The gang war you started, Jason?" Bruce pointed out.

"You were ignoring me. I was simply trying to get your attention."

"The people you killed?"

"All criminals. And it was only three of them. Most of the others were just seriously injured."

"Getting thrown in Arkham?"

"That was not my decision. If anything that was Dick's fault."

"Attempting to kill your brothers?"

"That's just inaccurate. I did not try to kill Damian."

"Okay, I think that's enough," Dick interrupted. "We've all made some pretty terrible decisions. But if we want to get through everything we need to keep moving forward, as a family. Jason and I have accepted the mistakes we made. Bruce, we'll help you fix anything we caused, but you should focus on Tim and Damian, and honestly I think it's an easy fix."

Bruce crossed his arms. "Oh, really? Weren't you just telling me the other day how messed up all of my kids are?"

Dick flushed. "I was frustrated. Things haven't been easy for either of them since you left. Hell, even before that things were difficult. Ever since we found out about Damian, him and Tim been competing over you. Yes, making Damian Robin only complicated things, and I accept that it was wrong, but honestly when you were gone Damian was on his best behavior. At least, as much as Damian could be."

"Really?" Bruce asked.

"Oh yeah. Despite the whole assassin thing, Damian's a pretty normal kid." Jason said. "A stuck up little brat who believes he's superior to everyone else, but you know, he's your kid. Honestly, he probably just wants your attention. From what I saw Dick practically smothered him with parenting-book nonsense."

"And you know Tim, he obsesses over things. Whatever he's working on now is probably his way of proving to you he's better than Damian. They both just want you to approve of them, Bruce."

Bruce nodded. It made sense, of course. He'd been a father long enough to know acting out for attention. Sure, Dick and Jason never really had to compete with each other - by the time Bruce took Jason in, Dick went off as Nightwing - but there had been times when the two of them acted out for Bruce to notice. Jason more than Dick, but it was enough so he should have understood. And then even when Tim came, he was obsessed with proving that he wouldn't make the same careless mistakes Jason did. Hell, hadn't Bruce even noticed the change in atmosphere once Damian arrived? Didn't he stay up late with Alfred, after Damian was asleep and Tim was out working with Teen Titans, discussing their competitive nature? Bruce sighed. He had been so obsessed with cleaning up the mess and making everything perfect again he didn't even realize the problem; his two kids were going back to proving they were the best. Some detective he was, even Jason figured it out before him.

"Well, what should I do?"

"Easy," Dick said, "talk to them.

. . .

 _Batcave._

 _Yeah,_ Bruce thought, looking down at his two sons through the eyes of his Batman mask. _Easy. Talk to them._

Tim and Damian were practically nose-to-nose, screaming in each other's faces. Bruce was just glad they hadn't become violent yet, as most of their fights seemed to end. Their last big one Bruce had witnessed being the one where Damian pushed Tim off of the T-Rex. According to Dick, they had one big fight before he made Damian Robin, but both of them had little more than scratches and bruises. Jason admitted he once tried to urge them to fight once Tim was back as Red Robin and Robin, but Tim had refused. Now, Bruce knew he was just sitting on a time bomb waiting to explode.

He had to admit, it looked funny. To an average eye it would look like an obvious win: Tim was bigger, and the idea was that the older brother always won. But Damian was more aggressive, and he knew how to hurt people in ways Tim would never even think of. Tim was no novice though, he could fight too, and he was _smarter_ than Damian, which might be more valuable than brute strength.

There was the issue of their appearances, too. Maybe someone walking by would think that the younger one would win - after all, it didn't look like two brothers fighting, it looked like Robin vs. Tim Drake. More specifically, Tim Drake in boxers and an undershirt.

Somehow, word had gotten around the manor that Batman planned to go out on patrol with Robin. Only, Bruce didn't realize that they both thought they were Robin. Damian had come down first, and Bruce had every intention of taking him. It was a standard patrol, and Bruce planned on keeping away from Crime Alley, but instead focus on watching over the busiest parts of Gotham, probably on the roof of Wayne Tower. It should have been a slow ight, and Bruce expected to spend it most talking to Damian. He had already had a plan: he was going to let them both be Robins. Why not? Batman could always use more help. This way Nightwing could focus more on Bludhaven, and whenever Batman needed assistance, he could call on Batgirl, Robin, and Red Robin (and Red Hood, though Bruce hadn't mentioned it to Jason yet.) Tim had gone on solo patrols plenty of times, there was no need to keep him always with Batman. He also could spend more time with the Teen Titans that way, or even the Justice League. Tim was ready to graduate from a normal sidekick.

Damian, on the other hand, would be strictly Bruce's partner for now. No solo missions, no other team missions unless headed by Batman, no running off on his own. That was the plan anyway, and while that worked for Dick and Tim when they were younger, Bruce had the suspicion Damian might act more like Jason, who had snuck out to go on patrol himself when Bruce had a mission too dangerous for him to tag along. For now though, he thought it could work.

Only, Tim had come down while Bruce was off getting ready. He was looking for his old Robin suit, which was missing. He had called Batman to ask where it was, but by the time Bruce came out, Robin had informed him that he had burnt that thing in the furnace, months ago. They were already in a fight before Bruce could stop them.

Damian shoved Tim, and Tim pushed back even harder. Damian fell back onto his butt, but jumped back up and kicked Tim in the stomach.

"Alright, that's enough," Batman growled. "If either of you hit each other again no one's going out with me."

They stopped. Tim looked up at Bruce, obedient as always. He seemed incredibly small, shivering in the Batcave while everyone else was in costume. Damian crossed his arms over his chest. Though Bruce couldn't see through Damian's mask, he knew his eyes were looking away. Bruce pulled his cowl off, this was a father issue, not a Batman one.

"I know what's going on. The two of you do not need to compete for my attention. I love you both and know things have been hard lately, but this behavior needs to stop."

Damian crinkled his nose. "Compete? Sounds like something Grayson would read in his parenting books. We have no need to compete. We both are fully aware who the true Robin is."

"Yeah, we do," Tim snapped. "The one without blood on our hands and trained by a cult of killers!"

"Tim-"

"I would assume it is the one who is standing in the Batcave in his underwear."

"Stop it!" Bruce yelled, "the next one to speak is being sent to his room and isn't going anywhere." They fell quiet again, though those time were glaring at each other, as if it was any sibling argument. "The two of you put me in a very difficult decision. I want you both to know I love you, and I have plans for both of you. However, Tim, I'm sorry, but I planned on taking Damian out tonight."

"What? That's it? You're siding with that homicidal maniac?"

"Tim, that's not fair."

"You know what's not fair? You taking that demon spawn just because he's your own son."

"You're smart enough to know that's not true, Timothy. At least listen to my side,"

"Forget it, I don't want to listen to you. I don't care. Just don't come crawling to me when that bastard kills someone."

Bruce grabbed Tim by his arm. "Stop it, you know better than talk that way. I'm not kicking you out of the family, Tim. If anything I'm moving you up. Yes, Damian's Robin now. But I want you to keep doing what you're doing, as Red Robin. You've proven to me that you can handle yourself in fights and on missions. I want you to become more independant, and this is giving you that chance. Dick left to become his own hero because I wouldn't let him, and Jason ran off to do something stupid because he wanted to save the world his way. I can't keep you kids under my watch forever, and I know you're ready to do do this on your own, Tim."

Tim was quiet for a moment, considering all this. There was the downcast look of shame and embarrassment. Bruce knew he didn't mean to yell and freak out, and they both knew that was very un-Tim.

"But, we aren't partners anymore?" Tim said, almost in a whisper.

Bruce tilted his chin up so Tim was looking at him. "We're more than partners, Tim. We're family. I love you, and I love all of you equally, and nothing will ever change that." Bruce dropped his chin. "I want you to remember that, but I am disappointed in your behavior recently. I know you're going through a lot at the moment, but you can't just run off and close people out when things aren't going your way."

"Yes, sir, I know."

"Now, I'm going to take Damian out now. I want you to go to bed and get a good night sleep, I heard you haven't been doing that lately." Tim blushed and nodded. "I need you to take care of yourself. We're going to talk tomorrow, I promise. I need you to think of anything you think you need to tell me. Okay?" Another nod. Bruce pulled Tim in for a hug. He felt Tim's arms lightly wrap around him. When he let go Bruce did too.

"I'm sorry, Bruce. I know I've been acting shameful lately, but-"

"Shh, it's okay. You're a kid, you're suppose to make mistakes." Bruce ruffled his hair. "Now, I think some sleep will do you good. I have a feeling you haven't gotten a full eight hours in months."

Tim nodded and walked toward the elevator. Once he was gone Damian snorted.

"Pathetic. You should have seen him when Grayson made me Robin. He screamed and ran off crying. I must say, it was nice once he left."

Pulled his cowl back on and glared at Damian. "Don't talk about Tim that way, Robin. Or I'll reconsider taking you out."

"Fine. I am ready to go. I will drive."

Bruce rolled his eyes under his mask. "No, you won't."


End file.
